


Peace Over Anger

by wolfiefics



Series: The Ashante Vende Stories [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, qui-gon's first adventure as a padawan learner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 18:30:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 26,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21150263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfiefics/pseuds/wolfiefics
Summary: Meet Ashanti Vende, the chaotic teacher of Qui-Gon Jinn. And you thought Obi-Wan had it bad with a rogue master.





	1. Prologue

Ashanti faced him squarely, using her body to block the entrance. "This house is under quarantine," she stated baldly.

Marteene the Hutt tried to push his considerable bulk past the tiny alien female, but found himself shoved back by a thin, power tail. The three barbs on the end pricked him, stinging him, and he winced. "I heard that the Jinns had a child. I have the authority to remove the child from a possible plague household."

"You're too late. This **is** a plague household." Ashanti watched his eyes glint with greed. The child, born months ago, was worth a considerable fortune; he was heir to a larger one should his parents perish from the plague gripping the planet Plumera. She did not need her keen sense of the Force to know this Hutt "official" cared less about the child and more for the fortune. "I have been granted guardianship of the baby," she informed the Hutt, continuing to push him away with her powerful tail, her barbs sinking into his hide deeper with each shove. It was a strain on the Jedi to not release the toxins from the barbs into his tough hide.

Marteene backed off the front steps and away from the stinging tail, glowering as he did so. "You have the necessary paperwork?" he demanded belligerently, trying to maintain his waning authority over this small person.

"I will be happy to bring it your superiors when I have the time. Right now I'm tending an infant and two contagious patients. If you'll excuse me," and she slammed the door in his face. The lock slid firmly into place with a satisfying click and Ashanti leaned against the door in obvious relief. She heard the Hutt growl something but couldn't tell what it was. Frankly, she didn't care.

That was another scavenger put off, but she could keep the carrion eaters away for only so long.

The baby was crying, his voice raised in loud protest at being awakened. Ashanti suppressed a sigh. She was worn out. The Jinns had aided her years ago, and so she owed them her life. Now their planet was engulfed in a deadly plague and the natives were dying by the thousands, leaving the alien population to deal with the death toll and the horror.

"Ashanti!" screamed a feminine voice. The sprite-like alien bolted for the back bedroom chamber, tearing past the room where the baby's crying had reduced to burbling.

Ashanti skidded to a halt at the scene presented before her. While Ashanti had guarded his home from the intruder who would destroy his family, Ron-Seng Jinn had died. His wife, Ravia, lay on his still form, still screaming Ashanti's name, weakly sobbing for help.

The Jedi knight approached the woman cautiously and pulled her from her husband's body. Ravia shuddered uncontrollably, as much from the pain as from the loss. Grief itself raged through Ashanti, fueling her with energy. "Ravia, he feels no pain now," she whispered in meaningless comfort.

Ravia's eyes widened and Ashanti felt her give up, felt the life force ebb away. "He feels nothing," the woman whimpered. Ashanti caught the plague-ridden woman as she completely collapsed and with strength born of a race that lived in the high jungles of Maagolon, she held her friend tight momentarily and then laid her back into her sickbed. "My baby," sobbed Ravia, "Ashanti, my son..."

"Will be taken to the Temple," assured the Jedi. "I can already feel the Force strong within him. He will be a great Jedi knight."

"If he is..not..accepted among...the Jedi?" Ravia struggled to find a loophole in the perfect plan laid out for her son. Even now, a mother's instincts were at work.

Ashanti's sincerity and reassurance sifted through the dying woman's worry. "Then he will be my son and will be accepted by my people. He will live with honor and security, I promise you."

Ravia smiled softly, wistfully. "We loved him. Make sure he knows that, Ashanti. Do not let him fail to know that we loved him."

"I swear, my friend, or I forsake my vows as a Jedi," promised Ashanti and felt her friend slip away in peace. Tears stabbed at her eyes and grief howled through her soul. She gently laid the couple together and left the room, closing the door softly behind her. She closed her eyes and let the tears fall for a moment, but the baby's continuation of his own language pattern broke through.

She had to get baby Qui-Gon from here before the plague became his future.

Ashanti stood over the baby bed, staring at the new responsibility who giggled (at least it sounded like a giggle to Ashanti) at the sight of her. Stretching out her senses, Ashanti pressed the child deep into slumber. He yawned once and his head drooped in sleep. She located the guardianship papers Ron-Seng had signed when he learned of his impending death several months ago, gathered a few baby items, a couple of holo-pictures so that Qui-Gon would know his parents' faces, and a couple other family heirlooms of personal significance for the baby later in his life. She then picked up the child and left the house without a backward glance.

As Ashanti closed the front door, she picked up the black marker left by the Hutt to mark the door when the occupants were dead. The body detail would be by shortly to remove the corpses to reduce the plague's hosts. At dawn, the corpses of Ron-Seng and Ravia Jinn would be burning with hundreds of others of their people.

Her path was clear; the choice irrefutable and non-negotiable. Qui-Gon's future was in her hands and she would make sure that her promise to his parents would come to pass. A Jedi Qui-Gon would be, if she had to fight the whole Jedi Order to do it.

* * *

Marteene the Hutt supervised the removal of the Jinn bodies personally. That the child and the fortune that came with him had slipped through his fat, greedy fingers was obvious. Custom authorities, after ascertaining that the child did not carry the plague in any form, had agreed that Ashanti Vende, Jedi knight, did indeed have legal custody over the child. Marteene suspected that the money meant little to the Jedi and growled at the waste the money would come to. It was a lost battle, however, and he knew it. He could always dispose of the fancy furnishings of the lush Jinn household. There was still a profit to be made, just not as lucrative.

Like all Hutts, though, Marteene vowed he would not forget this considerable loss of wealth and power at the hands of Ashanti Vende. He would have his day over her, he swore it. And he would have the fortune she took with her as well.

* * *

Ashanti faced the Jedi Council of Twelve, the baby gurgling at her feet as he attempted (even at his young age) to crawl around the fascinatingly colorful tile. Master Yoda blinked owlishly at her, his irritation evident with every twitch of his long, expressive ears.

"No."

Ashanti's chin notched up belligerently. "Its one way or the other, Master. I gave my oath and I will stand by it."

Yoda's teeth ground in consternation, causing the rest of the Council to tense. "Train you I did. Unacceptable this is and you know it." The small green alien emphasized the final three words to no avail. He knew Ashanti, had trained her as his own padawan learner when they were both years younger, and knew all about the rebellious streak that was as wide as his own once was. "Stay here and care for child you will for two years, then back to field you go, Ashanti. Needed more out there you are than needed by this child. Accepted he is as Jedi student."

The baby managed to wiggle and squirm his way to Yoda's small chair and let out a high happy-baby scream, causing the ancient master to jump several inches. He had been concentrating so much on Ashanti that he had neglected to keep an eye on the child. Ashanti stifled a laugh, as did a few other Council members. Yoda's ear twitched complacently as he gazed into the innocent face of the human baby. The boy gurgled and slapped the chair gleefully, mimicking the snickers he heard from his adult companions.

"Very well." Ashanti picked up the child, cradling him. "Come, Qui-Gon Jinn, we must settle you into your new home."

The two years flew to Ashanti's way of thinking and as the child grew more and more aware of his surroundings, Ashanti made herself less and less available. He had to grow up with little or no knowledge of her. She had already decided he would be her padawan learner when he became of age, her first apprentice. Yoda had frowned at this declaration but agreed that she did have call to make that decision. After all, the boy was still her legal ward. The Jedi Temple could not accept guardianship until the age of four.

The time approached for Ashanti to leave, and she grew melancholy, wandering around the Temple dejectedly, heaving long sighs and irritating everyone with her churlish attitude whenever her leaving was mentioned. Her first mission was assigned to her direct from the Supreme Chancellor herself and Ashanti had her bags packed, ready to be on her way.

From a small wooden box, Ashanti pulled several documents and handed them to Master Yoda, transferring her guardianship to him until such time as the Temple could assume full responsibility for the child. She also handed him a small wooden statue and a bag of soil.

Yoda raised his eyebrows at the odd tokens. "Give those to Qui-Gon when he turns five. The wooden statue is a token of my affection for the boy, a statue of the child protector Quizia, but I'd rather he didn't know who it is from just yet. The soil is the soil of his home planet, from his father's home. Ron-Seng was big on ceremony and tradition. I swore that their son would receive these gifts and it's all I ask now."

Master Yoda's eyes drooped and Ashanti could feel his sorrow. "Miss you we will, Ashanti. Like old times it was. Excellent student he will be, you were right. Great Jedi knight he will become under your guiding hand." Yoda looked at the holo-picture player that Ashanti tucked into her bag. "Keep those you will?"

"Yes," sighed Ashanti. "I will give them to him for his thirteenth birthday. I have things that must be said with the giving of these pictures." She paused and Yoda looked at her expectantly. "Tell him his parents loved him and did not willing abandon him."

"They died, not abandon," Yoda pointed out reasonably.

Ashanti gave a brief smile. "Yes, but sometimes children don't understand that, Master Yoda."

"Take care of this and him we will for you and your oath, Ashanti," Yoda reassured her when she still hesitated.

"No, for the memory of his parents." Ashanti smiled wistfully at the old master. "Thank you, my master. I'm glad you understand."

Yoda waved away the sentiment with his typical gruff nature. "Oaths made to be kept, lies made to be broken. If keep the oath completely you cannot, help you will get to do so."

Ashanti nodded gravely, picked up her pack and strode out the door. Yoda sighed heavily, knowing it was ripping Ashanti up inside to leave the boy. Both knew it was for the best and, after all, it wasn't like she would ever see him again.

Then again, Yoda reflected, ten years was a very long wait.


	2. Part One

Ten Years Later

The sound, it was there again, vaguely like the clicking of toenails, but the sound was coming from above him this time. Qui-Gon Jinn flattened himself against the floor of the Jedi Temple's practice arena and began to crawl across the cool tiling. The familiar humming swish and the mild heat brushing above him in a near miss told the twelve year old boy that he had succeeded in again evading his attacker.

His opponent this day seemed to be no student Qui-Gon knew of. All the students had boots of some sort and none had the ability to crawl along the metal ceiling.

Using his considerable bond with the Force, the serious-minded student began to concentrate on his antagonist. Something blocked him, a mental wall, which puzzled and startled him.

"If I were you, Qui-Gon Jinn," a laughing voice whispered near his left ear, "I'd worry less about the identity of my opponent and worry more about the whereabouts of her weapon." He felt the press of heat against his throat and flushed at his mistake of letting his guard down for only a few seconds. He turned off his lightsaber and belted it at his side as a signal of surrender.

The voice tsk-tsked in response and the blindfold that covered his eyes was pulled off without warning. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sudden light change and he found himself facing a dagger-sized lightsaber. He blinked again, this time in surprise.

He looked over to where Master Yoda had watched the practice session. Yoda's green wrinkled face did not change from it's sleepy-eyed visage as he spoke. "You approve, then, Ashanti?"

A voice, feminine and mischievous answered above Qui-Gon. It was unmistakably his opponent. "I do, but he needs his other year, Yoda." Qui-Gon looked up as the light-dagger was swept upward. He blinked again at the sight of the alien woman above him.

He recognized her as Ashanti Vende, one of the great Jedi knights. It was whispered that she rebelled often against the Jedi Council and that she was so particular about who she took as her apprentices that she had never had one.

Her form was petite, her skin a rusty brown, and her hair was a dark auburn with highlighted strands of bronze. Her eyes shimmered an deep teal color, not quite blue, but not quite green either. She wore the standard Jedi tunic top typical of Jedi knights, but her pants were bright purple. A tail, hairless with a knot of three spikes on the end, flicked to him, brushing his chin. Claws from her left hand were sunk into the steel beam directly above him and she was powering down the dagger with her long fingered right hand. Qui-Gon recognized her race as the sprite-like Titainiens and was immediately overwhelmed at having been her adversary in the practice arena.

"Why do I need another year?" he asked evenly, fighting down the disappointment of an obvious rejection. "I am ready now." This was a knight searching for an apprentice, and he had no doubts that he would be a good apprentice. His mind then registered all the words that had been spoken between the two elder Jedi. "You accept me?" he asked, flabbergasted.

The knight flipped as she tumbled to the floor. She laughed as she went to her towel and water bottle that were sitting next to Yoda's small observation chair. "Actually," she confessed, drawing a frown from Yoda at her admission, "I've been watching you for a long time, Qui-Gon Jinn, but today I felt like throwing something different at you to see how you manage."

"To the Temple she brought you as a child," Yoda added as if it were an afterthought. Ashanti wasn't fooled by the casual tone. "Understood it has been that her padawan learner you will be."

Qui-Gon's heart soared as he comprehended all the information. "You brought me to the Temple?" Qui-Gon asked, looking awestruck at the elf-like woman. He had known the circumstances of his being brought to the Temple, but had never known who had brought him here.

She looked mildly amused at his tone of amazement and Qui-Gon sensed there was more than amusement twinkling in her eyes. "I'm not as disreputable as Yoda over there would have me painted, but I do okay, whelp." Yoda harrumphed at the idea of him referring to anyone under his guidance as disreputable but refused further comment.

"But why can't I go with you now? I am ready!" protested Qui-Gon, trailing after the Jedi knight as she left the area, with Yoda following them both. He had broken his own rule against whining and he grimaced at the undignified sound. Desperate times called for desperate measures, he reassured himself.

Ashanti stopped and turned to look up at the face of the tall, lanky human boy before her. "You gave up too easily, Qui-Gon," she told him with some disapproval in her voice. "If you had quickly considered your options you would found at least two efficient ways of defeating me. Instead, you surrendered." She ruffled his closely cut hair with her long tail affectionately. "Another year to learn, another year to reach thirteen and another year of wisdom from Yoda should serve you well." With that, Ashanti nodded to Yoda and departed.

Yoda patted the bewildered boy's leg reassuringly. "Ashanti very conscious of training you. No move she make uncalculated. Impress her next time you will?" Yoda's green eyes widened, secrets and challenges glowing within their green depths.

Qui-Gon felt determination swell within him and he bowed deeply to the old master. "Yes, I will," he stated firmly and strode toward the changing room to shower and change into a fresh tunic.

Ashanti came back around the corner of the corridor and smirked at Yoda, who merely gazed at her with a small smile on his lips. "I'll be back after this mission. In the meantime, Master, keep an eye on him for me?" She turned and paused. "Teach him to make a light-dagger and fire a blaster accurately, would you? Sabers don't always work out there."

"Defense is the Jedi way," reproved Yoda sternly, disapproval seeping from him as it did whenever the subject came up of her using other weapons in conjunction with her lightsaber.

"Survival is everyone's way," countered Ashanti with equal gravity. "He will learn to live on nothing but his wits, know to use all things available to keep himself alive. Teach him." This time she did disappear.

Yoda tapped his staff against the tile in aggravation and grunted in disgust. He ruminated on the situation as he made his way through the Temple to his own personal chambers. Ashanti's mischievous nature often caused the Jedi Council ulcers. When she had brought the infant Qui-Gon Jinn to the Temple, all twelve members had been in an uproar.

The baby's parents had been killed from a plague rampant on their planet. The child's obvious connection with the Force prompted Ashanti to bring him to the Temple, and sure enough the midichlorian count was high. So within the Temple the boy was raised from infancy. While other children were brought to the Temple at the age of three, four or five, Qui-Gon had never known another home. He had never known another family outside the students, masters and tutors. Despite this, Qui-Gon managed a worldly and wise outlook, mature beyond his years and was very skilled in the Jedi arts.

When Ashanti announced two years ago she would be taking Qui-Gon as her padawan, she sent the Council into the boughs again. Several other masters had requested the honor of training the boy. Ashanti informed all politely that since she found him first, she had first call on him. One master who protested vehemently found himself dodging one of Ashanti's infamous daggers tossed casually in his direction by a long tail. Yoda considered the matter settled, knowing Ashanti had been impatiently waiting for the boy to mature these years and granted her the official approval of taking Qui-Gon as her apprentice. Long ago personal permission from him had been granted; now it was public. She had a stake in the boy's future after all; a promise to his parents to keep.

She was a rebel, a rule bender and she followed no law except the Force and her own heart. Many dagger marks were covered over in the main Council chamber from where Ashanti had tossed a dagger at someone to prove her point. You accepted her as she was or you got out of the way.

Yoda sighed as he entered his private chambers. She had been his favorite apprentice, but she was irritating as a fellow knight.


	3. Part 2

Ashanti concealed herself using her race's natural camouflage and magnetic attachment abilities to a high corner in the student dining room moments before the students came in, noisily chattering and laughing as children were wont to do. Qui-Gon entered the room with a group of younger, misfit or smaller students. She approved of his protective attitude and quiet, attentive demeanor. She had heard many a tutor complain that he was too quiet or had brought in too many strays looking for food, shelter and medical attention. He didn't seem to differentiate between animal or non-animal. Though his now lanky frame was gangly, she knew he would fill out to be a powerfully built man, perfect for fighting, like his father. She grinned to herself. Too bad he had the heart of a monk, she mused, though she did note the glances between Qui-Gon and the willowy female in the party with the scarred features. He'd break hearts and heads someday.

"Hey, Qui-Gon, I heard Ashanti isn't going to take you after all!" A huge Drolian towered over the table Qui-Gon and his "charges" were seated at. "Changed her mind, eh?" consoled the Drolian, draping a meaty arm across Qui-Gon broad shoulders. The huge alien's tusks shone in the artificial lighting. "Maybe he isn't tough enough for a knight like Ashanti, you think?" the Drolian asked the assembled students that constituted his brute squad.

"If that's the case, Trudell, then you won't be her next choice either. You haven't beaten me in the arena yet." Qui-Gon's quiet comment held a veiled insult and the whole room knew it. Ashanti chuckled to herself and silently cheered the human boy on.

"Maybe not," agreed Trudell with a growl, "but I rest easy knowing a great knight like her will not be wasting her time on a puny human like you."

Ashanti stopped from revealing herself to reprimand the Drolian for his assumption of her actions. The mere idea that someone would assume anything about her was a peeve. She worked hard to be unpredictable. The minute flinch from Qui-Gon, however, stopped her action before it began and caused her to ponder her previous thoughts on the boy. She settled her nerves down, and as the students finished their meals and filtered away for more studies or entertainments she contemplated her actions concerning the human boy she had taken responsibility for those long years ago.

She had sworn to Qui-Gon's parents that their newborn son would be well cared for and would have the life they wished for him. On her most sacred vows she swore this and fought against the Council's reticence to ensure the boy's safe keeping within the Temple at such an early age. She knew that the boy would be perhaps too sheltered but could see no other way around it.

Many thought her actions questionable while others thoughts her actions borderline lunatic. Her already questionable reputation was in threads from recent missions where she had skimmed the line yet again, and Ashanti knew many of the knights and masters thought she would not be the best choice in being the master to a promising Jedi knight like Qui-Gon Jinn. Something within, though, told her that she would be the best thing for the boy. Yoda informed her often since her announcement to take Qui-Gon as her padawan learner that the boy would be the best thing for her too.

When the last student left the dining room and the cleanup droids had come in, Ashanti disengaged herself from her corner of the ceiling and departed as well. One month, two tops, would be the length of time Qui-Gon would need to consider his actions in the practice arena and garner the skills she requested Yoda to teach him. She had great faith and no doubts that Yoda would do as she asked, because despite their wrangling from time to time, Yoda knew she had a purpose to everything she did, and would never break the Code, without good cause. He knew his former padawan well.

The mission took priority in her mind as soon as she left the Temple for her transport ship. Qui-Gon watched her go through his classroom window, disappointment still swirling through him and he turned back to the pieces of a light dagger that Yoda had set before him. He idly wondered if she was really going to come back for him in one year.


	4. Part 3

Two months later

"Thank you, Chancellor, I'm glad the situation was taken care of to your satisfaction." Ashanti bowed respectfully to the Republic Senate's Supreme Chancellor with all the dignity she could muster. When the viewscreen shut off, she relaxed again, exhaustion seeping through her. "That," she informed a medic droid who could have cared less, "is the last time I am a bodyguard to a lunatic." The droid continued patching her wounds.

She leaped from the medical bed when the droid finished it's care and strode out the door with a murmured thanks. The droid momentarily buzzed with appreciation at being recognized by a great knight like Ashanti Vende.

Ashanti waited impatiently for the public transport she rode on to stop at her intended destination, the Jedi Temple, and walked into the cool and peaceful building of the ancient order. For over a century now, it was the only place where the gash in her soul ever partially faded and left her with a small measure of relief.

Using her amazing memory of the Temple, which seemed to be in a state constant repair, redesign and construction, Ashanti strode through the myriad of corridors, looking for Yoda or Qui-Gon. She was less than thrilled when she ran into a familiar Drolian and his pack of mischief makers. Trudell bowed low to her in respect and began to speak. Ashanti was impatient to view Qui-Gon's progress but paused out of politeness.

"Welcome back, Knight Ashanti," the Drolian greeted with ill-disguised eagerness. "Do you return to view the padawan candidates? I fight tomorrow morning and would be pleased if you would watch."

Ashanti eyed the boy, her focus brought back to him fully and then shook her head. "No, thank you, I have a padawan learner," she informed the group, noting the Drolian's disappointment and growing anger at the obvious cut. Feeling the urge to deliver a set down for Qui-Gon, she asked, "Have any of you seen Qui-Gon Jinn or Master Yoda?"

"They are at the blaster range," sniveled a small Jawa-sized alien with no teeth and nose. His fur stood on end and his smell left much to be desired. "Obviously, Master Yoda thinks the human needs all the weapons practice he can get for guarding miners. No doubt that's what he will be assigned now that you have a padawan learner." The group stifled a few laughs and jabbing, unmindful that they spoke to a knight known for her sharp tongue.

Ashanti's eyes narrowed and her tail corkscrewed in consternation. "I'm glad Master Yoda followed my orders in further training Qui-Gon. My padawan learner will need more skills than an average student for the missions he and I will be going on." The group froze and Ashanti, satisfied that it had been made clear that Qui-Gon was her apprentice and she considered them average at best, continued her path, altering it to take her to the outdoor blaster range. She gave them not another thought.

"Good, now shut eyes and place on blindfold," Yoda called to Qui-Gon as the youth finished massacring various targets on the range. Yoda motioned for Ashanti to stay out of sight until the youth's eyes were covered, then she joined the small troll-like master.

As Qui-Gon used his tie with the Force to turn every last target, moving or unmoving, into melted slag, Ashanti watched with approval. Yoda handed her a light-dagger for her inspection and she switched it on, pleased at the soft heat from it's blue blade and the low, quiet hum it emitted. "Excellent," she murmured. "You do good work, Master, as always." Yoda grunted and called out more encouragement as Qui-Gon dodged and bounded around the range with youthful skill and enthusiasm.

The last target was sizzling when Qui-Gon pulled of his blindfold. He took note of his lack of targets and turned to Yoda for praise and more instruction. He was startled to see Ashanti standing with the old master and bowed low to them both once he recovered his equilibrium.

"Very nice," approved Ashanti. "May I say you thoroughly toasted the enemy and we can call the droid army a dud?" Qui-Gon felt ridiculously pleased at the obvious praise and grinned lop-sidedly.

"You may," the boy told her, still grinning and bowed again to cover any embarrassment.

"Finished all training you require he has," Yoda informed her, his green eyes even sleepier looking than normal.

Ashanti recognized that look and grew immediately wary. The sleepier Yoda looked, the worse it was for whomever the look was intended for. "And you have a mission for us to prove it, don't you, Yoda?" she groused, her tail wrapping around the human boy's wrist protectively.

"The Council does," confirmed Yoda with a small nod of his head. "A missing Jedi you will find. Apprentice came back dead. Master did not come back at all. Find him you will." Yoda began to make his way back inside the Temple's huge structure, the spiked architecture casting gray shadows in the fading sunlight.

"Give me the report and we'll get Qui-Gon ready for immediate travel." She looked over at the stunned boy and raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem, Qui-Gon?"

"You are taking me now?" he strangled out.

Ashanti smiled and shot Yoda a look of glee. "A lesson to you, Qui-Gon Jinn. Never try to second-guess any action your master might make, because half the time, she's surprised at any move she makes." Qui-Gon nodded once and followed the elders through the corridors. "Go to your quarters and grab one clean tunic, any survival equipment you need and a minimum of personal belongings. You might also want to say farewell to your group of hanger-ons and friends as well," she added.

Qui-Gon strode away and Ashanti followed Yoda.

* * *

"You are leaving now?" exclaimed Gemma Comatara, a tall, willowy beauty who had been Qui-Gon's sweetheart from almost the moment they met. Fleph Kewic and Wilse Kosyr, two other of his good friends, stood dejectedly as they watched him pack his few meager belongings.

"We are going to hunt for a lost Jedi knight," he informed his group of friends, excitement barely tamped down.

Fleph, a small teddy bear looking creature, scuffed his feet on the shiny tile and then grinned. "You know what I overheard? It should be a good going away present for you, Qui-Gon. Master Ashanti slammed Trudell and his gang. Pretty much told them that she considered you special and them no more than average. The Drolian invited her to watch him fight tomorrow morning."

Qui-Gon sighed in dismay. "They will cause you trouble without me there to even the odds."

Fleph grinned a cocky grin and nudged Wilse Kosyr, a huge hulking monster similar in build and looks to Trudell. "I've already talked with Yaddle, who told me not to worry. I guess the droids have been tattling on them anyway. One more screw up and they get the Agriculture Corp duty next year. Besides," he added, "it's about time Wilse started defending us anyway."

The group of friends snickered and smiled at each other at the sight of the tusked Drolian, from a proud warrior race, tilling soil and harvesting crops. Wilse seemed unimpressed with the idea that he would be the new group protector. Everyone knew Wilse couldn't hurt a fly if he tried.

Qui-Gon closed his pack and turned to face his friends squarely. Sadness filled his heart and his enthusiasm waned momentarily. "Good luck everyone. Maybe we'll run into each other again someday." The group assembled in a huge group hug, some tears from the younger students and brave faces from the older. He gently kissed Gemma's lips in farewell.

Gemma followed him out. "What about our time together before you left?" she asked softly.

Qui-Gon hugged her, not wanting to leave her but knowing he had to go his own path. "I'll be back and we'll spend time then. Master Ashanti and I have to leave quickly. The life of the lost knight depends upon our haste."

The two sweethearts' lips met in a chaste kiss and Qui-Gon left her standing there. Both were saddened at their parting.

Qui-Gon left the dormitory area without a backward glance and headed for the upper main chambers of the Jedi Council. Ashanti called to him from the balcony area right outside the Council Chamber door. "Qui-Gon, did you get everything in order?"

The boy nodded, squaring his shoulders. "I'm ready," he told her. She studied him closely for a moment and then gave a nod.

"Careful you will be, Ashanti," Yoda called to them as they made their way from the Temple. The two looked up to see Yoda standing on a lower balcony with two other Jedi masters. "Come back to us you will."

Ashanti bowed with a jaunty jerk to the movement. "We'll bring him back, Master, dead or alive, and make sure all know, you step on the toes of one Jedi, you step on them all." Yoda's grunt could be heard all the way to the ground.

Qui-Gon managed a hasty bow before having to scamper after the smaller form of his master. "Master Ashanti, I have a question..." he began, but stopped when Ashanti stopped her progress toward the waiting transport vessel and turned to him.

"Qui-Gon, let me tell you my philosophy concerning masters and apprentices. You are my apprentice, my padawan learner. I am your teacher, a one-on-one tutor, if you like. But I am not, nor will I ever be, your master. That has always implied a slave attitude, and while I adopt a subservient way for the most part with the Jedi Council out of respect, I will not tolerate it from you. My parents named me Ashanti, and that is what you will call me." Qui-Gon nodded mutely. "Your parents called you Qui-Gon, and that is what I shall call you, unless I call you padawan or whelp instead. Got it?" Qui-Gon nodded again. "Good. Now let's get this show on the road." She ushered the youth into the transport and nodded to the crewman. "Tell the captain we're ready to leave when you are."

"Yes, ma'am, I'll let him know right away."


	5. Part Four

The space craft, Qui-Gon discovered, was not some special transport used primarily by Jedi to get them from adventure to adventure. It was, in fact, a really filthy, highly malodorous, freight ship. Qui-Gon stiffened his resolve and decided that this would be the perfect start to his new life as a padawan learner to a great knight like Ashanti.  
He rather liked her. She seemed fun, easy to deal with, even-tempered (for the most part anyway), and she seemed to have a fondness for him that he found himself reciprocating. Ashanti was a fascinating blend of just about everything Qui-Gon had ever wanted in a master. All in all, a satisfying arrangement he decided.

Their quarters were shared, at least for now, the steward explained. They would be dropping some passengers off at the space port nearest their destination, giving the Jedi some private quarters for a couple of days. Ashanti shrugged as if it didn't matter. Qui-Gon was relieved though, for he valued his privacy, being quiet and introverted.

Ashanti granted him approval to wander the ship, exploring his surroundings and ascertaining who the other space travelers were going to the same planet as the two Jedi. Knowing that he was being sent on reconnaissance Qui-Gon nodded gravely, tamping down his excitement at the small freedom he had been granted and left their quarters at a quick pace.

Jedi knight Qui-Gon Jinn was ready to face the universe, he told himself in a fleeting moment of fantasy.

Ashanti thought he was in for a big disappointment.

* * *

A small dining hall/bar was setup in the center of the ship, catering to all varieties of tastes and needs of the ship's passengers. Qui-Gon's eyes widened at the assault upon his senses as he came through the door. He was twelve (almost thirteen he reminded himself) and he had no doubts that he could handle any trouble that came his way, so he walked over to the bar. He then stood there uncertainly, unsure of what to do next besides trying to look casual.

The bartender raised an eyebrow and marched over to where the tall human boy stood, staring in wonder at what was around him. "Lost?" he asked in a deep rumble.

Qui-Gon looked at the bartender and fought the urge to gulp. "No, sir. Just looking around." Qui-Gon took a deep breath and fought down embarrassment at the bartender's smirk. He had never done well with strangers. "Are all these people going to The Planet of Thoughts?"

The bartender, placing a glass of a blue juice in front of the boy, continued smirking, though he adopted a more friendly mien. "Nah, most are just freeloaders, looking for someone to rip off. Most of those passengers avoid the bar. We're too low-class for their tastes. The Planet of Thoughts has exclusive clientele. Don't know much about your destination, do ya, kid?"

Qui-Gon felt his chin notch up defensively. "I haven't been told much about it, no. I just know what I've heard on Coruscant."

"You one of them Jedi we're supposed to be transporting there?" grunted the bartender curiously.

"Yes, sir," Qui-Gon nodded, his eyes taking on a bright shine. "We are on a mission there."

"Qui-Gon!" snapped Ashanti's voice behind him. He turned and saw the tiny woman bearing down on him, a frown creasing her brow. "Silence."

He flushed at her abrupt rebuke. He had said too much, he realized, but it didn't seem to faze the bartender any. "So, Ashanti, he belongs to you?" The bartender grinned, showing clean teeth, though they weren't exactly perfect.

Ashanti grinned back. "Yes, this is my hanger-on. He'll be with me for a while until he can handle himself on his own, then I cut him loose and watch him flounder."

"Don't let him go too soon or you may find yourself floundering," observed the bartender, winking at Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon pulled out a Republic credit to pay for his drink, but the bartender waved the money away. "This one is on the house. Any apprentice of Ashanti's is a friend of mine. You get in trouble while on this ship, head for the bar. I'll help ya, kid."

Qui-Gon blinked. "Uh, thanks, Mister..."

"Don't have a name, kid. Don't need one. I'm the only bartender on this moving pile of junk, so I ain't hard to find. Just ask for the bartender and they'll point ya my way." The bartender gave a little wave to the two Jedi and wandered down the bar to help another customer.

Before Ashanti could even get her mouth open Qui-Gon was already apologizing. "I'm sorry, Ma...I mean Ashanti. I almost gave away our mission. It won't happen again. It's just he was so friendly that I didn't think he could be dangerous to us."

"Remember, whelp," Ashanti told him, wrapping her tail around his neck in mock strangling, "everyone is a suspected enemy until proven an ally. Bartender there has been my friend for I don't know how long. Most of the crew on board this ship are completely trustworthy. They were either once students at the Temple, failed padawans or just loyal to the Jedi Order for their own reasons. I use this ship whenever possible. You never know where it travels." She paused and smiled. "Bartender will indeed help you in any crisis while on board this ship, or off ship as well if he's in the neighborhood, but remember to watch what information you give out. Too much might be enough to hang you and too little may be your undoing as well. Gage each situation before releasing whatever information you deem important enough to get what you need. Sometimes putting out a story or two flushes out what you need. Rule one: Don't be afraid to talk, but respect the consequences you get from those words."

Qui-Gon nodded thoughtfully. "Rule One duly noted, Ashanti," he told her gravely. "I got saved only by circumstance this time, didn't I?"

"You didn't give out anything secret so you were okay. The crew aboard this ship knows what we're going into, I think, but I'd rather keep it from the other passengers just in case." Ashanti nodded to Bartender and walked to the exit. "I'll leave you to continue your exploring. I need to talk to the captain."

"Yes, Master," Qui-Gon responded automatically, grimacing at his words when she arched an eyebrow. She then laughed and disappeared through the sliding doors.

Qui-Gon finished his tour of the ship, making a mental map of where places were. The hanger with the small escape pod shuttles were located on the lower decks, three decks of passenger and crew quarters, one deck of recreational rooms, lounges, the bar and another restaurant. The two upper decks seemed to house not only engineering in the center of the ship but also the main bridge, battle and weapons areas and the medic ward. All in all, basic function and setup, Qui-Gon figured, as he meandered down the hall back to his and Ashanti's quarters.

"Ah, the errant wanderer returns. We've been invited to dine with the captain and his guests. You up for socializing?" Ashanti was tying her belt around her waist and hooking the lightsaber to it using the belt loop reserved for the weapon. Qui-Gon had not really seen the weapon up close and he noted its unusual construction.

Silver metal with black grips in the center for better handling, the lightsaber's handle itself had colorful strings of gold, blue, purple, red and green dangling down from the base. Qui-Gon marveled at the beautiful design. It seemed more a work of art than the deadly weapon it truly was.

"It's beautiful," he breathed in awe.

Ashanti gave him a startled look and then smiled. "One of my first missions as Master Yoda's padawan was to return to my home planet. Everything there, despite it's function, is a work of beauty. There something aesthetically pleasing to the eye can be the most dangerous creature in the forest, so children are taught that beauty is also danger. I took that lesson to heart. Besides," she shrugged as she turned him back to the door, straightening his tunic as she did so, "Jedi are allowed so little luxury that this is a chance to carry something pleasing to the eye and still remain within the Code."

"Bend it but don't break it?" Qui-Gon asked shrewdly.

Ashanti laughed delightedly. "I knew you would be the perfect padawan for me. You think exactly the way I do." Qui-Gon felt himself puff up with pride at the praising words. "Let's go eat, shall we?"


	6. Part Five

The captain was a average in every way, including average height, weight, boring brown hair, brown eyes, and the pale skin of one who never sees the sun except as starlight. Even his voice was monotone. Ashanti and Qui-Gon both had to concentrate to stay awake for any amount of time during the captain's diatribes, which seemed to be plentiful.  
"And furthermore, allowing these outlying planets like Naboo membership into the Republic is a mistake, you mark my words," declared Captain Zan Tarin in his monotone voice.

Ashanti tried to formulate an answer and fought down a yawn instead. He would make a perfect hypnotist, she idly thought. She didn't dare relax, however, for also among the captain's dinner guest were Bova the Hutt and her two "bodyguards" who looked more like slaves than bodyguards. Bova, a female Hutt, something that Ashanti saw rarely, seemed to be very interested in what the Jedi were doing traveling to The Planet of Thoughts. Ashanti adeptly avoided answering the questions, easily maneuvering the topic to places that the other guests had traveled too, using the excuse that her padawan had never traveled anywhere before and might benefit from their experiences. The trick worked, and when the captain wasn't boring his guests to death, the Hutt talked their ears off.

"So tell me, Jedi Master Ashanti," a merchant named Dewik Lalan, "what say you about these outlying planets gaining membership?"

Ashanti shrugged noncommittally. "It affects me very little and once, all our home planets were considered outlying planets, so what difference does it make? All have something to gain and give of the Republic, so all should be allowed the opportunity."

The merchant leaned forward, his lips pursed as much as his race allowed their lips to purse and his red eyes glowing brightly. "So you say these poor planets, with no monies, have value to the Republic?" he asked incredulously.

"They are rich in resources that could be valuable to other members of the Republic," Qui-Gon pointed out reasonably, startling all at the table. He had beforehand been quiet, eating his food with gracious manners and keeping an eye on the guests, observing their movements and mannerisms.

"True," conceded Bova the Hutt, tearing off the head of some hideous creature, who's smell was worse than its looks. Qui-Gon fought the urge gag, but Lalan had no such qualms. His retching caused Ashanti to frown, as did the Hutt's "bodyguards", at the rude sound.

"That," groused the captain irritably, "means nothing. We have plenty of planets with many resources. The Senate is already overflowing with membership and they do nothing but squabble and bicker, accomplishing nothing!"

"Uniformity is always preferable to war. At least they are attempting to work together as one instead attempting to rip each other apart in useless, bloody feuds and quarrels," Ashanti noted, causing nods of agreement around the table.

"So what does the Jedi intend to accomplish visiting The Planet of Thoughts? No wars are being fought there." exclaimed the Bova, emitting a grotesque sound that Qui-Gon thought passed as a burp.

"Whatever the Council intends us to accomplish, Bova," reproved Ashanti, making it pointedly clear that the subject was now closed to discussion. Bova, no idiot, grunted her discontent at the answer but let the matter drop.

The meal was soon finished and the after dinner drinks ended as well, leaving the guests to depart on their own by-your-leave. Qui-Gon fought off his fatigue, it had been a long day, full of excitement. Ashanti must have picked up on the boy's weariness for she made their farewells and the two Jedi departed.

"What were your observations concerning the guests, Qui-Gon?" asked Ashanti casually, yet Qui-Gon felt there was more than she showed to the question. The bond between padawan and master that he had heard praised so often had not occurred yet between himself and Ashanti. At least he didn't think it had. Could the bond form within a day or even a month? How did it happen?

"Ashanti," he asked as they stepped into the transport elevator that would carry them to their floor, "how is the bond between master and apprentice formed?"

Ashanti looked at him in surprise. "You didn't answer my question and yet you expect me to answer yours?"

Qui-Gon looked shamed-faced for a moment and then squared his shoulders, a motion that caused Ashanti to look startled. It was a motion so much like his father's that she wondered where he saw the action to imitate it. "I saw the Hutt, a greedy female willing to defy the law to prove that a female Hutt can rise to the heights that a male could. That makes her even more dangerous, for she'd be willing to be more ruthless and eager for control. The two merchants are mercenary at heart, not as cold-blooded as the Hutt but greedy just the same. That is all three's weakness, which can be used against them. The captain is boring, mundane but cunning. His eyes never stopped evaluating everyone. The Hutt's bodyguards really are her slaves, though for what purpose besides her comforts, I'm not sure. They could be her bodyguards as well, but I doubt it. She seemed too secure in herself, overconfident enough to not think she needs them. They may be spies for her enemies as well. They are the wild cards."

Ashanti stopped in the corridor they entered from the elevator. Qui-Gon noted it wasn't their quarters' corridor. "Very good, but let me give you alternate view, though I have no doubt you are correct in some way of the captain's guests. The merchants are not just common merchants. They are empire magnates, and their power is great. Money will buy things that honor cannot, despite the wrongness of it and money has bought them much. They think it will buy them more. The Hutt you have nailed pretty much head on, but add this to your evaluation. She is not just a female rising to power over a male dominated society, but an enemy of that society. She works for no one, including herself. Right now she is in the employ of those merchants, though why I have no idea. That type of alliance, I will tell you, never bodes well for anyone." Qui-Gon's mouth dropped. "Those bodyguards are not bodyguards, true, but more like pleasure slaves. Their dress and subservient manner suggests this. Also, a small probe with the Force tells me this. They are basically harmless, but I would not turn my back on them all the same."

"You use the Force to ascertain the nature of innocents!" exclaimed Qui-Gon in shock. That broke the Code!

"No, these are potential enemies. No matter how safe your environment, Qui-Gon, there are always potential enemies. Never forget that." Ashanti tapped him on the nose with the tip of her tail, one barb gently brushing his skin without breaking it.

"What about the captain?"

Ashanti grinned. "The captain, my dear Qui-Gon, is a former Jedi knight. He left the Order of his own accord, deciding he would rather pilot a transport than battle evil-doers. He is very shrewd and he loves to deal with the scoundrels of the universe, which is why he captains certain Jedi around, like me. Trouble is magnetic, and I'm the positive to the positive. You observed the ultimate trouble deterrent. He may be boring to listen to, but he's one person you want at your back in battle."

Qui-Gon was stunned. The underlying lives of the people he had met were not obvious to him, and he was curious how Ashanti knew this. She had seen nothing different that he had, but she viewed them in a way that gave her more pertinent information.

"As for your question," Ashanti continued, watching her padawan closely as his brain tried to assimilate everything she had told him, "I have to answer with a question. What did you expect the bond between master and apprentice to be?"

"Well," floundered Qui-Gon, a frown creasing his brow in confusion, "I understood it to be this internal link between the two, some unknown tie that allows each other to know of danger, give warning or even communicate without words."

Ashanti nodded and began walking again. Qui-Gon followed her, feeling ridiculous to be following a woman smaller than he. Her stride was confident and she exuded self-assurance. That his master was an enigma, Qui-Gon had no doubts, and he was rapidly becoming confused about the relation between them. Did she not bring him to the Temple? Did she not claim the right to accept him as her padawan without even viewing the other students?

She stopped at a viewport that gave a breathtaking view of the stars the ship vaulted past them at high speeds. "What do you see, Padawan?"

Qui-Gon looked out, seeing the stars in all their universal glory. "The universe, waiting to be explored and protected, thousands of worlds of peace and war. People surrounding each star on planets, living their lives as all people live, with love, joy, tears, anger, hate and fear."

Ashanti considered his words carefully. "Do you know what I see?"

"No, Master Ashanti," Qui-Gon answered respectfully.

"The same thing," she sighed. "Even with my vast experience of what the universe is really like in all it's brutality I still hold an optimistic, yet realistic, view of what the universe could be like with the right influences. I have seen horrors that twists the soul and makes one believe in nothing divine, and I come out scathed but still whole, still idealistic. I bond with you through your innocence and unworldliness. You bond with me through my experience and jaded attitude. We exchange each with the other, learning from each other. We have only been together one day, the bond won't be obvious, you know," explained Ashanti, still staring at the stars.

"What was your bond with Master Yoda like?" the padawan asked, also staring at the view before him.

"Annoying." Ashanti smiled when Qui-Gon looked at her startled. "He is so strong in the Force that he knew everything I was going to do before I even did it. I couldn't get away with anything!" Qui-Gon tried to imagination a small Ashanti, a young padawan, trying to pull pranks with the even smaller and wise Yoda keeping a close eye on her. He burst out laughing. "You think it's funny, do you, Padawan? Just wait until you try something. I'm going to catch you at it and do the same thing Yoda used to do with me."

"What's that?" he sputtered, still laughing. She pulled her lightsaber, it's blade a low hum with a purple hue and swished it at him. It was obvious she was challenging him to a duel. Obligingly, he pulled his own lightsaber, pale blue in color and bland in design.

They fought up and down the empty corridor, scarring the walls here and there and heedless of the window ports. Ashanti tried every trick in the book and found that Qui-Gon had a counter or a move to get himself out of whatever trap she put him in. Slowly, dawning understanding became clear in Qui-Gon's dark blue eyes. The bond strengthened with every exchanged blow and concentrated effort to determine what the opponent was going to do next.

When they finished, Qui-Gon collapsed in exhaustion on the floor, eyes wide with the power he had felt flow from his master to him. Ashanti grinned down at him from her perched position on the ceiling. "Do you understand now?"

"The bond takes it time?" Qui-Gon huffed disbelievingly, still catching his wayward breath.

She nodded. "Sometimes, I understand, it takes time. Sometimes it's immediate or it may never happen at all, but I think we don't have to worry about it. Some of those countermoves you didn't learn at the Temple, did you?" He shook his head. "I didn't think so, because I thought of them as I moved and then you countered with what I thought of. Our bond is quite strong, it seems, whelp." Ashanti flipped from the ceiling, landing softly next to him. "Shall we get some sleep?"

"What is The Planet of Thoughts, Ashanti?" asked Qui-Gon, pulling himself from the floor and heading back to the elevator lift.

Ashanti easily kept stride with him. She is remarkable, Qui-Gon proudly thought, and she chose me as her apprentice! "From what I understand and read, it's a planet of pure atmosphere. No solid ground, at least none worth mentioning, just a livable gaseous atmosphere. The people native to the planet have discovered that off-worlders' minds can manipulate the gases into solid forms, creating whatever fantasy worlds they choose. So The Planet of Thoughts has become a travel resort, a place of relaxation and leisure. For a price, a small bit of the atmosphere is reserved for you to manipulate as you desire."

"Bizarre," Qui-Gon commented around a yawn.

Ashanti smiled tiredly herself. "I agree, and though I think it seems too good to be true, I've seen enough strange things in this universe to accept it until I can prove otherwise." They arrived at their quarters and she followed her padawan in. "You take the bed for now, and I'll bunk on the floor."

"Yes, master," yawned Qui-Gon and was asleep before he even got laid fully down.

Ashanti shook her head in disbelief, pulled off his boots and ruffled his hair slightly with affection. "You look too much like your father, Qui-Gon Jinn, do you know that?" she whispered sadly. "I told you, Ron-Seng, Ravia, that he'll make a great Jedi. I'll make it so."


	7. Part Six

Space Port Projenii had been named for the Projenii myth of Giimii III. The Projenii were the creators of the ancient Giimii culture and the artifacts from that long ago species were displayed in high security cases all over the station. The first artifact that greeted Ashanti and Qui-Gon was an ancient rowing boat in the days when water was the mode of transportation from continent to continent on Giimii III, long before space exploration had even begun.

Qui-Gon stood gaping at the giant boat until Ashanti nudged him to keep moving with a gentle push of her tail. He followed her, still looking around him with awe. Aliens of all sorts bustled around the space port, mingling with the crowd and giving off an exotic air. Bova the Hutt had followed them down the lead off ramp and slithered off to the right. Ashanti made note of who the Hutt spoke to before the two Jedi left the huge customs room.

A protocol droid.

'Interesting,' she thought, 'Why would a Hutt talk to a protocol droid in such an underhanded manner? If she owned the droid, then she would have no call to be secretive, so that means the droid doesn't belong to her.' She stepped aside for a Corellian space pilot to get by and then said outloud to herself, "Who does it belong to?"

"Maybe it belongs to whoever she works for? The merchants perhaps?" Qui-Gon answered her. They both looked at each other.

"Congratulations, Padawan," laughed Ashanti at Qui-Gon's stunned look, "it seems our link grows stronger everyday. But I agree, it could belong to the merchants, but somehow I get the feeling it does not. We might make note if Bova returns to the ship in a couple of hours."

"And if anyone is with her," added Qui-Gon. "Where are we going?"

Ashanti grinned ferally. "To see an old...friend."

The old friend was not happy to see Ashanti, Qui-Gon noticed, as the two foot alien found himself slammed against the wall. Ashanti had not been pleased to learn that Yee Yike had given away that Ashanti was on the space port. Certain people had been hunting for her, it seemed, and the leech had given her away.

"Now, Yee," Ashanti said calmly, the barbs on the end of her tail waving in front of the small bug-like creature's face, "you know I hate it when people rat out on me. Why would you do this? I was going to pay good money to learn about something on the Planet of Thoughts and here you rat out on me. I'm very disappointed."

Qui-Gon, in the spirit of things, piped up, "And you know how she is when she's disappointed."

Ashanti didn't bat an eye, though inwardly she was pleased at Qui-Gon's contribution. The boy was a fast learner. "I didn't know you'd be angry, Ashanti, I swear it!" sputtered Yee, terrified of the poison barbs just inches from his bare skin. That the poison would bring a slow death, Yee knew for a fact, for he'd seen those barbs do their deadly work.

"Did you think I'd be pleased that Marteene the Hutt's bounty hunters would be on my tail? Me, with a new padawan I'm trying to impress?" Her tail swung over to point in Qui-Gon's direction. Qui-Gon smiled a feral smile, hoping that it would impress the stooge enough.

It did. "I swear, Ashanti! They told me they wanted to talk to you about some fortune you took a long time ago. I thought maybe you stole it or something and they wanted it back."

Ashanti slammed him against the wall, no longer toying with the stoolie. "You thought I stole something?" she snarled. "Have you ever known a Jedi to do something like that, Yee, let alone me?"

"No, no, no, no," cried Yee, "but that's what they said!"

"Never trust a Hutt, and never trust Yee Yike when you can get the info yourself," spat Ashanti. "Come, Qui-Gon, I can't get anything reliable from him anymore. Be off with you, Yee, and you'd be wise to leave the station. Marteene will not be happy at this double-cross." Yee disappeared like the rat he was. "Prophecies!" blasphemed Ashanti, her lashing in an angry arch. "This is going to be difficult and I hate it when it's difficult."

"Ashanti," began Qui-Gon, "what fortune do they say you stole?"

Ashanti sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Never mind. It's a long story and I'll tell you later. I have one more informant I can check on and then we head back to the ship. Wouldn't want to miss it."

He followed her dutifully, but inside his mind thoughts spanned. What fortune and why would Ashanti have been dealing with a Hutt? Hutts were known as evil, greedy creatures, and definitely not to be trusted no matter the circumstances. Jedi knights were the exact opposite, honorable, well-intentioned and generous.

Ashanti's next contact was a member of her own race who owned a cantina down the corridor from where she had interrogated Yee. Qui-Gon followed her slight form into the cantina, tamping down his nervousness at the rough atmosphere. Pilots and travelers looked up and then down at their entrance, and a couple looked interested in their arrival. Qui-Gon saw one of the interested parties slip through the side entrance.

"Keep a careful eye out, Qui-Gon," Ashanti whispered. "This wasn't the most brilliant idea I've ever had." Qui-Gon was beginning to agree. The sight of the Jedi caused consternation in the crowd, and though most seemed unwilling to challenge them, a few didn't look that intelligent.

"Ashanti," nodded Sirasam Mohe, his own tail raising and curling in a traditional Titainien greeting. Ashanti returned it. "What can I get you?"

"I ask for the Generous Giving, Sirasam Mohe, can you deliver?" Ashanti spoke in the traditional language of their people.

"That depends, Ashanti, on how badly you want it?" Sirasam forsake tradition but spoke in the language.

Ashanti tipped her head to one side and leaned forward. "By the ancient codes, I ask for information concerning a lost Jedi knight and his padawan on the Planet of Thoughts. I go there now, with certain danger at my back, and I ask a fellowman of the trees to give me information that will even the odds against me."

Sirasam's eyes narrowed and he looked at Qui-Gon, who was busy keeping an eye on the bar's inhabitants. "The Jedi knight lives, the padawan died. 'Tis all I know, Ashanti Vende. I can only offer you rumors, not fact."

"Rumors work just as well." Ashanti quirked a grin at him and he returned it.

"The knight and his apprentice grew too close to the truth. It seems your old friend Marteene the Hutt controls a large portion of The Planet of Thoughts and didn't want to lose his investment."

"And the word on Marteene is..?" prompted Ashanti, sensing there was more.

"He's been hoping you'd come to him someday. A debt he owes you for a fortune slipped through his fingers?" Sirasam's greed glinted in his eyes. "We share, you know, our people. I will take portion of what you have in exchange for the information, Ashanti."

Ashanti grinned. "To yourself this will keep," she instructed him in the ancient language, "but the boy behind me is the fortune. Marteene thinks he has need for a Jedi padawan."

Sirasam burst into laughter, causing heads to look up at them in puzzlement or discomfort. Two Titainiens were unnerving enough as it was. Two of them laughing was downright frightening. The species' natural bent for mischief was often a cause for panic.

"You jest with me!" he accused, wiping tears from his eyes.

"I do not. The boy is what Marteene seeks, but he'll get him over my dead body."

"That is exactly what he intends. I take it you have just taken him as your padawan learner then?" Sirasam pulled two glasses down and filled them with liquid, one amber and one blue. The blue juice he pushed to Qui-Gon and the other to Ashanti. "Neither are intoxicating," he assured Qui-Gon when the youth frowned. "Ashanti and I go way back, before she left for the Temple."

"Yes, he is my apprentice. Thanks, old friend. I just wish I knew what the knight found out that Marteene deemed it so important he risked the wrath of the Jedi Order. To have a knight disappear is not so unusual. To have the knight disappear and the padawan's body returned.." her words trailed off.

"Is tacky," finished Sirasam. "Watch your back and your padawan, for trouble comes to you both."

"Let's go, Qui-Gon," sighed Ashanti.

"May the trees shelter you from harm," Sirasam told her as the two Jedi left his bar.

"And may the rain cleanse your soul," returned Ashanti.

Qui-Gon followed Ashanti out the door and back toward the transport hangar.


	8. Part Seven

The rest of the trip was uneventful, in twelve year old Qui-Gon's opinion. It was duly noted by both he and Ashanti that Bova the Hutt and her faithful pleasure slaves returned to the transport to continue the journey to The Planet of Thoughts without further accompaniment. The more Qui-Gon thought about the mission, the more nervous he became. After all, a knight and his padawan had come to a bad end on this mysterious planet.

Ashanti had tossed the information pad on the planet and their mission to Qui-Gon the first evening from Space Station Projenii. The brief paragraph concerning the Jedi knight and his padawan had caused Qui-Gon discomfort. The knight had been in service to the Jedi Order for many years and this padawan had been his first. They had been together seven years and he had reported great satisfaction with the padawan's progress. The padawan would be a great addition to the pantheon of Jedi knights in the galaxy, it had been noted.

How could he, a brand-new padawan, with a Jedi knight who also had never had a padawan before, hope to succeed where these two had failed so disastrously?

Ashanti looked up sharply, having sensed Qui-Gon's despair, and frowned. "Don't think negative thoughts, Qui-Gon," she reprimanded. "If you dwell on them long enough, they will come to pass, and I for one like breathing as an extracurricular activity."

Qui-Gon sighed heavily and placed the pad next to him on his bunk. "Ashanti," he said, "many things have been bothering me about this mission. We have not even reached our destination and already I feel I'm playing a role written for me, but I have no script to guide me."

Ashanti studiously avoided his eyes when she answered. "Sometimes the Force is like that."

"No, it's not," insisted Qui-Gon, swinging his lanky legs from the bed. He pressed his arms against his ribcage, bracing his hands on the bed frame. "Why am I considered a fortune? I'm only a human, a poor Jedi student from a planet that is still battling the effects of a horrible plague. What use could a Hutt have for me?"

At his insistent tone, Ashanti looked up briefly and then looked back down. Unwilling to speak, she shook her head. "What aren't you telling me?" Qui-Gon slapped down the accusation, knowing he probably overstepped his bounds, but he had to know the answer.

Ashanti's eyes flashed momentarily when she looked back up at him. "It's information you'll need to know when I decide you need to know it, Qui-Gon Jinn, and not a moment sooner!" she snapped.

"Will that moment be before this Hutt kills me?" Qui-Gon scrambled back at Ashanti's fury directed at him.

"How dare you!" she snarled, leaping from her casual sitting position to stand over him, a good seven meter jump from the bunk she was sitting on to his. "I would never put you in danger, my padawan learner, so put that doubt from your mind this instant!"

"I can't!" Qui-Gon told her, trying not to tremble at his master's fleeting fury. She was quite frightening when she needed to be, he noted to himself. "It bothers me. I can't shake the feeling that there is something important in what you are not telling me!"

Ashanti stepped down off his bunk and walked back to hers, but did not sit down on it. Her back was to him, so he could not make out her expression. Her tail, however, always a better mood indicator than her face, was still dragging on the ground. It's length, longer than her own small frame, looked absurd when it wasn't in motion as it usually was.

With a heavy sigh, Ashanti spoke. "Qui-Gon, you are not some poor Jedi student, but from a powerful family on your planet. Your parents left you a considerable fortune, but as a Jedi, you have no need of it. We live simple lives in service to the Republic, a life dedicated to peace and justice. The Hutt wants that money. He thinks it will bring him power, as all greedy folk do."

"Why does he want my money specifically?" asked Qui-Gon, confused.

"When I took you from your home, he tried to take custody of you. Your father had already drawn up papers stating that upon his and your mother's death, I would be your guardian. That didn't sit well with Marteene the Hutt, who looked forward to manipulating the system to gain custody of you and control of your fortune." Ashanti looked up, seeing something Qui-Gon could only wonder at. "And through your fortune, he would have a stake in the government. It's was a powerful play that I safeguarded against, with the foresight of your father."

"So I'm your padawan only because of a promise you made my parents?" Qui-Gon was hurt. A padawan not because of his ability but because of a promise!

Ashanti whirled to face him. "No! That is not the case!" she told him insistently. She smiled at a memory. "I knew you would be my padawan the first time you burbled some unintelligent baby talk at me. The link was already there, Qui-Gon, I just had to impatiently wait for you to grow up enough that Master Yoda would let me take you. I wanted to take you at age ten, but Yoda about had a heart attack. He insisted no student was ready so young." She shrugged. "One only gets so far arguing with a wall and Yoda, I have discovered over the years, is more steel than brick."

"I did not 'burble'," Qui-Gon protested mildly, feeling better at his master's words.

Ashanti gave him a crooked grin. "Of course not, you were communicating in an advanced form of verbal communication that is lost in the later stages of maturity." Obviously he was over his pique enough to be mildly insulted at the idea of himself as anything but a 'grown-up'. Burbling must not be 'manly'. Ashanti's grin grew wider.

Qui-Gon grinned back. "Just so you remember that," he informed her with as much haughtiness he could muster. He then went back to being serious. Ashanti groaned inwardly. Like his father, Qui-Gon was never going to let a subject go until he had chewed it to death. "So this is more revenge for losing the fortune and me than anything else?"

"I don't know. He cannot have the wealth now. If it belongs to anyone, it belongs to the Jedi Temple until you become of age per the Republic and your planet's laws." She shrugged again, sitting down on her bed. Qui-Gon's mouth opened to toss another question at her. "Please, let's drop this matter. It is of no consequence with Marteene's involvement with the missing knight and his dead padawan."

As she hoped the topic was diverted to the mission itself. Thankfully, Qui-Gon wasn't as tenacious as his father. Ron-Seng would have berated her for even changing the subject. Qui-Gon seemed content with the answers she had given him, at least for now, but she would not be able to hold him off for long in the next round.

* * *

Bartender stopped wiping his pristine bar when Ashanti strode in. Just looking at her, he could tell she was wound up tight and ready to explode. He picked up a glass and began to polish it with deliberate ease. When the Titainien plopped on a barstool in front of him, he knew it was serious.

Ashanti hated sitting around bars. She attracted too much trouble to stay in one place for any amount of time.

"Something wrong with your padawan, Ashanti?" he asked, sliding a bottle of amber liquid in her direction. He set the glass down next to it and splashed some of the drink in the crystal clear glass.

"Why do you always serve me root wine, Bartender?" she complained half-heartedly, swishing the liquid around the glass and watching the kaleidoscope of browns swirl in the bad lighting.

"Because you always ask for it when I inquire as to your choice of beverage," he responded, smiling slightly as she tossed the full glass back and coughed once.

"Oh." She dragged in air. "So why is your version ten times stronger than everyone else's?"

Bartender leaned forward. "Why are you skirting around my question?"

Ashanti eyed him warily and then heaved a huge sigh. Bartender was impressed. Ashanti's natural cheerful nature rarely gave her the opportunity for morose contemplations. That she was in one now indicated great seriousness indeed. "Qui-Gon and I already had a fight," she confessed. "I lost my temper, but I think things are smoothed over again."

"Surely you didn't lose your temper!" exclaimed Bartender in mock surprise. To call Ashanti temperamental was to say that Jawas had a slight odor, in short a gross understatement.

"I thought bartenders were supposed to listen?" she snapped peevishly. Bartender shrugged. "He's questioning the mission, whether we should be on it. That," she added wryly, "and he's dying to know why the galaxy considers him a great fortune and why Marteene the Hutt has a price on my head."

"Padawans are nosy creatures," sympathized Bartender splashing water into her glass this time. He leaned against the bar. "So what did you tell him?"

"As little as I could get away with," she muttered, tail lashing once in frustration. She sighed again. "The less he knows right now the better off he's gonna be."

Bartender didn't think she sounded convinced. "So now that you've convinced him of that, who's going to convince you?"

She glared at him. "Who said I convinced him? The boy's too smart for his own good."

"SoHo forbid he should be able to think on his own, let alone reason."

Ashanti glared at him again, and then snorted in laughter. "Okay, you have me there. Intelligence in a padawan is high on the priority list but he's tenacious and my little fob-off explanation will only satisfy him for so long."

"So you told him just enough to keep him happy?" Bartender shook his head in disgust. "Ashanti, if you can't trust your padawan learner, who can you trust?"

Ashanti looked pensive. "Well, it ain't a Hutt that's for sure."

"What about Marteene? He's going to drag the whole thing in whether you think it's connected with the missing knight or not." Bartender watched her closely. If there was one thing he knew about Ashanti, it was that predictable wasn't in her vocabulary.

"Marteene holds a grudge against me for that incident we've discussed before." She gave him a look of inquiry and he nodded. He and Ashanti were good friends. He knew about the Hutt incident on Plumera and Qui-Gon's circumstances when he was brought to the Temple. "That I'm on this mission with Qui-Gon is coincidence," she stated confidently. "We can handle it."

Bartender grabbed her again empty glass and dumped it in the dish washer. "You're that sure it was a coincidence?" he asked her, walking away.

Ashanti mulled over those words as she returned to her quarters.


	9. Part Eight

Much to Ashanti's relief, and Qui-Gon's disappointment, the rest of the journey to the Planet of Thoughts was completely uneventful. Qui-Gon had been hoping on space pirates; Ashanti had gotten her peace and quiet.

The ship arrived at the docking bay at the main resort hotel on the planet. A structure that just floated in the nothingness of gaseous atmosphere, Ptoph Hotel was an enormous piece of engineering that attracted as many people for it's aesthetic beauty as the planet did for it's hallucinogenic entertainments.

Ashanti and Qui-Gon were duly impressed, like the other guests disembarking. Both the captain and Bartender were there to say farewells to Jedi knight and apprentice. Qui-Gon gave Bartender a jaunty smile in perfect mimicry of his master. Bartender repressed a snort of laughter, but the snort was caught by the captain who had no such qualms of hiding his laughter. His brown eyes dancing, Qui-Gon saw the first bit of non-mundane emotion from the captain.

"Good luck to you, you mischievous elf," called Bartender.

"Hold me some of that root wine for the return trip," Ashanti answered without turning around.

"She's gonna need it!" Qui-Gon added, in the spirit of things. That elicited a laugh from all three adults and Qui-Gon felt himself ridiculously pleased. Something deep inside him nagged, telling him the camaraderie between the three Jedi was somewhat strained. Did they think the two of them wouldn't be returning? A sense of foreboding swept across him again.

Ashanti gave him a sharp look. "Stop that," she ordered sternly.

"I sense something, though, master," Qui-Gon told her, slipping into the typical padawan to master language without realizing it.

Ashanti's shoulders squared as she glared up at her padawan. "I know, I do too, but we need to put up a good front. Don't let them know that we're wary. Very few people here know why we are here. Let's look like tourists, shall we?"

"Jedi tourists?" asked Qui-Gon skeptically.

Ashanti shrugged and gave a roguish grin. "It's possible."

"But not likely," Qui-Gon added and followed her example of looking totally casual and relaxed.

"Welcome, Jedi!" exclaimed a voice.

Both Jedi looked around, seeing no one approaching them. "Excuse me?" asked Ashanti, perplexed, reaching out with her Force sense to locate the welcomer.

"I beg your pardon, but I thought a corporeal form would not be necessary with Jedi. That your extraordinary tie with the universe would allow you to not need a solid form in front of you." The voice was immediately solicitous. "I can create a solid form if you so desire."

Ashanti tipped her head to one side, finally picking up the being hovering around them. "Please, if you don't mind. A solid form for the moment, to give a sense of you and then you may return to your normal form."

A being materialized, if that's is what you wanted to call it, pulling the dust together from around to give itself an outline to see. The sparkling shape of a humanoid being stood before them, just a basic outline, as if a drawing. "Is this better?"

Qui-Gon gaped. Never had he imagined such a creature before! Ashanti merely bowed respectfully. "We come in peace at the behest of your government and our Council. You are our liaison then?"

The being shimmered a delightful color spectrum, drawing on the light particles around it. Another being some distance away materialized using the same peculiar phasing in front of Bova the Hutt and her two pleasure slaves. Ashanti noted this and nudged Qui-Gon, nodding in their direction. Qui-Gon focused part of his attention on the Hutt and her companions, while keeping half an ear on the conversation between his master and their escort.

"I am," it affirmed. Qui-Gon could get no sense of gender and so resigned it to the terminology of "it" for lack of anything better.

"I am Ashanti Vende and this is my apprentice, Qui-Gon Jinn," Ashanti introduced. Qui-Gon bowed and the being shimmered in return, the same dancing spectrum of colored that it had used when Ashanti spoke. In a flash of understanding, Qui-Gon realized the being was returning the compliment. He flushed in pleasure, the first time he had been given respect by anyone except other Jedi. It was a heady feeling to be acknowledged as a Jedi by someone else. It brought home how important he could be to a mission in the capacity of a Jedi.

Ashanti grinned at Qui-Gon's reaction, knowing what he was thinking. Being raised to know that one was special somehow was completely different to having it brought home that someone recognized how special you were.

The being was speaking, causing both Jedi to return their attention to it. "I am 459," it informed them.

"Four fifty-nine?" asked Qui-Gon. "You are a number rather than an individual?"

"It is easier for most beings to say a number than our names, which is physically impossible for you to pronounce." The being seemed amused by their shock. The sense of laughter came to the Jedi through the Force.

Ashanti grinned. "Interesting, but distasteful. May I call you something else to make life interesting?"

Qui-Gon's eyes widened. She had almost broken the Code again! One did not show such disrespect to a planetary delegate in such a fashion. "Ashanti, it's name is 459, so perhaps we should..."

"A name would be acceptable. Whatever makes you comfortable, Jedi Ashanti," the being graciously stated. The feeling that it didn't really matter to the creature came across to them.

Ashanti, delighted with the prospect, grinned and her tail spiraled. "Excellent, Pak, then please take us to our quarters and brief us on what we need to be doing."

The being shimmered again in the gesture of a bow and turned from them to lead away. It stayed in it's outlined form until they had left the docking bay so the Jedi would not confuse it with other beings who greeted incoming patrons to the planet. As soon as they cleared the large crowd, it dematerialized and the Jedi followed it through their sense of it's presence alone.

Ashanti thought the whole thing imminently fascinating; Qui-Gon thought it was downright bizarre.

The being took them down several long corridors until it stopped in front of an ornate door, with carved wooden designs of vines, trees and other shrubs. Ashanti was awed by it's very Maagolon design. "This is like the work my people do," she gasped.

The being seemed amused again. "You see what you want to see. Your companion sees something different."

Ashanti turned to Qui-Gon, who was frowning at the door. "I see nothing but a steel sliding door." It dawned on Ashanti that Qui-Gon had never seen anything except the functional doorways in the Jedi Temple. He had not yet been exposed to the beautiful works from different planets, including his own.

"Fascinating," Ashanti announced.

The door opened and allowed them in, the being following the Jedi. "The room is aesthetically the same to both your eyes, with only variations in the furniture." Qui-Gon noted that Ashanti ran her hands over the functional chair arm as if touching something delicate. He wondered what she saw that he didn't. "If I may ask a question, Jedi Ashanti?"

Ashanti turned to the being, who's body again became an outline that they could discern. "Please, ask away."

The creature turned to Qui-Gon and then back to Ashanti. "What is Pak, and why does your companion disapprove of a new designation for me? Would it not bring you more comfort to know me as something other than my assigned designation?"

Qui-Gon's lips twitched. "I disapproved, yes, not because she didn't like your, uh, designation, but because she seemed to think she would know a better one. It is rude to think that one can reshape someone else."

The being gave a tinkling sound like the whistling of the wind that no doubt passed as laughter. "She sensed that designations mean little to us and acted upon that feeling. No disrespect was intended and none was taken."

Ashanti raised an eyebrow at Qui-Gon. "See? I'm not the rebel you paint me out to be." Qui-Gon took that as the mild rebuke it was and sat in the chair behind him. "As for your name, my people believe in beings similar to you, that live in the air and help the trees grow. Trees are the basis of our world. We live in them, eat the fruit they bear, and hide in the branches that give us shelter. We call them the Pak, the Givers. You give Qui-Gon and I quarters and will be our guide while we visit here. You are a Giver to us, so I named you Pak."

The creature seemed to contemplate this name carefully. "Will offense be taken if I retain this designation upon your leaving our world?"

Qui-Gon looked at Ashanti, startled. Ashanti merely continued her roguish grin. "I see no reason why not. Please, Pak, keep it as your new name. I encourage it."

Pak released a broad spectrum of colors, indicating his pleasure. Qui-Gon could not repress the smile that welled up inside and he began to laugh as the kaleidoscope of colors escalated to a cascading rainbow. "Anything you desire, it is my pleasure to give," Pak informed them once he'd finished his light show.

"How about some lunch?" suggested Qui-Gon, his stomach rumbling in a reminder that he was a perpetually starving twelve year old human boy.

"Refreshments and other nutrients can be found through the nutrients replicator on the wall. Clothing and other accessories can be gotten from the replicator as well. I shall go and inform the magistrate of your safe arrival and return to see if you need anything else. Is this acceptable?" Pak's outline disappeared again.

"Very acceptable, Pak," approved Ashanti, "we thank you. Return when you can."

"We look forward to your company," added Qui-Gon, heading for the replicator. Pak gave off the impression that it was startled by their willingness to have its company and brought forth a brief shower of light once more to show its pleasure. After that they lost all sense of it completely. "That was interesting."

"And useful. I like Pak. He'll make an excellent guide here." Ashanti wandered over to watch Qui-Gon operate the replicator. After a couple hit and misses, Qui-Gon managed to replicate a stew for them both, some bread and drinks.

The two ate in silence, contemplating what they had read about the planet to themselves. Their thoughts, however, ran along the same lines.

The Planet of Thoughts had been a unimportant planet in the Republic who's only reason for gaining membership was because it was in the Central System and the only planet with sentient life not a member of the Republic. Because representatives of the Thoughtians, as they were called, could not congregate with the rest of the Senate, they were a largely forgotten people, ignored for the most part by all. The Thoughtians needed nothing from the Republic and were content.

About twenty years ago a space freighter lost it's maneuverability and "crashed" within the planet's atmosphere. When the crew lost life support aboard their ships and the gases from the atmosphere seeped in, they began to hallucinate and, more importantly, could control their hallucinations. The Thoughtians, seeing the joy and happiness the space pilots experienced in creating their own fantasies, began to wonder if they could contribute to the Republic after all. With the help of Ptoph, a Malastarian scientist, the Thoughtians developed a way to "float" structures within their atmosphere and allow visitors to sample a part of their atmosphere. For a small fee, which paid for the upkeep of the structures and public transportation to the atmosphere 'spas', a visitor could have a small portion of the gases in a room to enact a fantasy or indulge in an entertaining memory. Whatever the mind could imagine, the gases had the ability to show the visitor. The gases created substantial, real objects that could be touched, sat in, moved around or whatever else was needed. Safety protocols were put into place to stop anything lethal from happening, however, making it a hot spot for exclusive clientele.

The Thoughtians thought it was a good trade for their inclusion into the Republic and more than paid in full the protection the Republic gave them. The Senate agreed and it was a popular vacation spot for delegates all over the Republic.

The Jedi master Hal Lim and his apprentice, Mal Jemins, had traveled to the Planet of Thoughts when a Senator complained of an assassination attempt. The Thoughtian government knew nothing of the matter and having no way to be solid beings, could not be of any help even they did know something of an attack on the senator's life.

The last report from Lim stated that the Thoughtians were gentle creatures, completely taken advantage of by a Hutt named Marteene, who had ingratiated himself into their enterprise and now made a substantial profit from his several hotels and transportation modes. Lim also reported that he suspected something else, but needed more proof before making an accusation. He did not elaborate further. Nothing else was heard from the two Jedi until the apprentice's body was brought back with a regretful apology from the Thoughtians, who claimed to have no idea what went wrong.

Which was where Ashanti and Qui-Gon came in, investigation team extraordinaire. They were sent to determine the whereabouts of the missing master and why his apprentice was returned deceased. The Thoughtians humbly accepted the request for an investigation, promising full cooperation.

Somehow Ashanti felt sure that someone was going to stand in the way. When she read Marteene had an interest in the planet, she knew exactly who was going to cause her no end of trouble.

Piddling though the loss of Qui-Gon's fortune had been, Marteene had taken the whole thing way too personally, to Ashanti's frame of mind. Any other Hutt would have made a mental note of her name, promised retribution if the opportunity came along and went their slimy way. Marteene, on the other hand, put a bounty on her head, small at first, but the bounty grew as his wealth grew. It was vastly irritating to Ashanti, who was tired of running into bounty hunters in the middle of missions that had nothing to do with Marteene the Hutt and everything that had to do with her staying alive for the next mission.

That this "chance" meeting with Marteene was enough of a bizarre coincidence made Ashanti very wary. It was bound to happen, she knew, but these circumstances were just way too convenient for her peace of mind.

It was also convenient that Qui-Gon happened to be with her as well. He was still considered a minor and forged papers could easily put the Temple's claim of legal custody of Qui-Gon to question. By the time everything would be resolved, Qui-Gon, and the fortune that came with him, would be long gone. It definitely smelled of a setup, but Ashanti saw little she could do about it for the time being.

The rules of the game had not been laid out before her, and reckless rebel though she was, Ashanti always knew what the rules were before she broke them.

"Pak should be returning soon, Padawan, let's say you and me do some talking, shall we?" Ashanti rose to have the replicator refill her juice glass.

Qui-Gon looked at her puzzledly. "I don't understand."

Ashanti looked at him shrewdly. "Yes, you do, Qui-Gon. You've been thinking the same things I have. Did you reach any conclusions?"

"Just that this is a somewhat convenient coincidence."

"Yes, very convenient. This whole setup is almost too good to be true." Ashanti nodded her head in agreement. "I don't trust too convenient conveniences."

Qui-Gon looked down at his hands. "Master, I have a bad feeling about this place."

Ashanti quirked an eyebrow at him. "Oh? How so?"

"It is too good to be true. A planet that allows your mind to create whatever it wants using the gases in the air, but there are no ill effects to the person manipulating the gas? Highly unlikely." Qui-Gon opened the report on The Planet of Thoughts again. "The scientist Ptoph states that absolutely no ill effects were found in any user during short term exposure. He says nothing at all about long term exposure."

Ashanti sat down next to Qui-Gon and read the report as well. "For the recommended short periods of usage, the gases have no ill effects upon the user's minds. Recommended period of usage is no more than 30 minutes." Ashanti paused in her outloud reading. "How odd. It says nothing about usage for over 30 minutes?"

Qui-Gon flipped a few pages back. "Not that I've found. Could that be what the missing Jedi found out? That long term exposure causes damage?"

"Or, even more likely, that repeated usage causes brain damage." Qui-Gon's eyes widened at the implication that Ashanti made.

"Would the Thoughtians know of this?" Qui-Gon asked, reaching out with the Force to make sure no Thoughtian was hiding in the room.

"I already checked," Ashanti told him absently in reference to his searching for spies. "I'm betting some Thoughtians do, but I'm positive Pak knew nothing of this. He actually thinks that people gain entertainment from manipulating the atmosphere. If this is the case, then Thoughtian high officials are the ones who know otherwise and will not be cooperative in this investigation." Her tail thumped the carpeted floor several times in aggravation.

"Will Pak help us?" Qui-Gon wondered.

"In anything I can, Jedi Qui-Gon." Pak entered the room, followed by two other beings, who materialized with Pak, drawing the material particles in the air around them to give outlined shape. "Do you require anything else?"

"Not at the moment," Ashanti said hastily. "Perhaps later."

A bright band of orange flashed at them, as if Pak was shrugging. "May I present 2435 and 8937, high officials within our government? They wish to assist you in the investigation."

Ashanti and Qui-Gon bowed formally to them. The beings pulsed in the same fashion that Pak had done in the docking bay. "We thank you for your offer, but we would rather work with Pak if this is acceptable?" Ashanti stood with her legs braced apart, almost military in her stance. Qui-Gon imitated her, hoping she knew what she was doing. He sensed anger from them at this slight.

"Pak?" sputtered 2435. "Who is Pak?"

"She gave me a more comfortable designation," explained Pak in a shimmer of blue spectrum. "I confess it appeals to me."

"Highly irregular," muttered 8937, "but if they insist, the guest is always right." It seemed to be repeating the creed of good customer service as if by rote and not really meaning it.

"I will be happy to serve them in their investigation," Pak continued, unabashed by the other two Thoughtians distaste for his new name. Ashanti had the distinct impression that she had just picked up a faithful servant.

"Very well," agreed 2435 haughtily, "but we expect a daily report upon the status of the investigation. This unfortunate blemish must be eradicated from our record. We must maintain a pristine reputation." Qui-Gon understood this to mean that they had a reputation for being a quiet resort and wished no incidents of wrongful deaths to blemish such a hard won reputation.

Ashanti added her own two-bits to the instructions. "We require our own private transport and full security clearance to all facilities and documentation concerning the resort. We have reason to believe that something untoward happened to our missing Jedi that was not an accident."

All three Thoughtians seemed disturbed by such an accusation. "Of course, whatever you require. We reserve the right to revoke these should this become necessary, however," agreed 2435 hastily and placatingly. "If something unlawful happened to your missing Jedi, then we will be prepared to help track down the cause."

Ashanti nodded confidently. "Excellent. The Jedi take note of your willingness to work with us during this unfortunate incident and thank you for your assistance."

"It is most unfortunate," 8937 stated sadly, but both Ashanti and Qui-Gon got the feeling 8937 wasn't as sorry as it made out to be. It actually seemed more indifferent to the Jedi's investigation than sympathetic.

The two officials left, after giving Pak instructions on what was at the Jedis disposal. Qui-Gon sat back down and Ashanti began to pace.

"Is there something wrong?" inquired Pak, losing the outline to again become part of the air around them.

"Pak, do you know if anyone has become ill because of your atmosphere?" Ashanti continued her pacing, tail flicking ever so slightly as she thought.

Pak seemed to consider the question. "Not that I am aware of or have been told. According to scientific investigation by the great Ptoph, our atmosphere is compatible to all life forms."

"That's not possible though," Qui-Gon put in. "Most species require a certain mixture of gases to breath and sustain life. A slight variation of this may not have immediate or short term affect, but it will in the long term."

Pak seemed appalled. "Do you suggest that your missing Jedi has died from our atmosphere, which was poisonous to him?"

"We don't know, Pak, that's what we need help with. The apprentice was stabbed to death by some sort of electrical spear weapon. All our reports state that investigations on short-term usage of your planet's gases show no harm, but it says nothing about continuous and constant use, or repeated short term use." Ashanti explained further.

"Our guests who return could be in danger?" Pak finally grasped the implication.

"Very likely. Has nothing been done to study this possibility?" asked Qui-Gon.

Pak's attitude dropped to immediate depression, worrying Ashanti at the rapidity of this. "None that I am of aware, but then I am only a greeter, a private escort. I am not privy to these matters."

"We trust you to help us, Pak, will you do that, despite the fact that it may cause your people to lose the resorts you have built so graciously?" Ashanti pressed the alien to make a decision. She knew what Pak would say, but wanted to make sure of it.

Pak did not hesitate. "I do not see how making people suffer will bring us any joy. No matter how little it hurts them now, it may cause them hurt later. I will help you, Ashanti Vende, Qui-Gon Jinn." Pak seemed to take a steadying breath, though neither Jedi thought it actually breathed. "Whatever you require, I will try and provide. When do you wish to start?"

Ashanti smiled at Qui-Gon, who smiled back. "I knew you were my kind of Thoughtian, Pak. A rebel with a cause." Pak didn't understand what she meant, but he understood the companionship the two Jedi offered him.

Qui-Gon suddenly realized that Pak was a very lonely being, escorting one ungracious guest after another, fulfilling their every request and getting nothing but the pleasure of making them happy in return. The camaraderie that he and Ashanti offered was unusual and made the Thoughtian think of himself as something special.

Thus Qui-Gon resolved that if he ever came across other creatures such as Pak who needed such guidance and companionship, he would offer it freely. Ashanti's eyes twinkled at him when he looked at her. She seemed to know what he was thinking and with her fond, yet mischievous, gaze he saw her approval of his decision.

Qui-Gon Jinn had found his mission in life.


	10. Part Nine

Qui-Gon stared at his master, completely flabbergasted. He had placed her in the eccentric category sometime ago. He never dreamed she was insane. "Are you crazy?" he asked, unable to help himself.

Ashanti stopped herself halfway through the doorway and gave him a withering look. "As if you have to ask," she told him and continued through the door, which closed with a soft hiss behind her.

Pak stood complacently behind Qui-Gon, watching the human boy stare with a shocked expression at the closed door. "It will only be once," offered Pak as a consolation.

It was a small one, Qui-Gon noted. "But we don't know what kind of damage could occur just once."

In his head, through their link in the Force, Qui-Gon heard Ashanti chuckle and respond. _Padawan, you worry too much. And besides, any brain damage that occurs isn't going to be significant compared to what I do daily._

Qui-Gon frowned. _What do you mean?_

_I took a padawan learner to trip over and to listen to whining for the next ten to twelve years. I'd consider that the brink of insanity myself._ Qui-Gon's eyes widened at the mild rebuke and obvious insult but wisely kept his mouth shut. A little of Ashanti's irritation had flowed through their link. With a lack of anything better to do, he began to grill poor Pak for as much information on the Planet of Thoughts as the alien could answer, right down the merest molecular puzzle.

Ashanti stood within the "room", feeling nervous and not sure Qui-Gon wasn't right about the whole thing. This morning Ashanti had woken up feeling reckless and stupid. As the two Jedi ate with Pak hovering around the room in his normal noncorporeal form, Ashanti declared that she would be trying out one of the "spas" to see how the process worked. Qui-Gon had tried to argue her down, to no avail. It seemed Ashanti was determined to use the relaxing atmosphere of the Planet of Thoughts "just to see what it's like."

Qui-Gon obviously thought she was insane. Ashanti was beginning to agree, but she said she was doing it, and typical of her species, anything decided upon must be acted upon, come hell or high water. Ashanti often marveled at her species' ability to survive with such stupidity latent in the genes.

"Welcome, Ashanti Vende. A probe will scan your memory banks, and at your will, an appropriate memory will be replayed. Is this acceptable?" A calm computerized voice rang out in the cloudy environment.

"Whatever!" she responded with forced joviality. Through the Force she felt the scan and pushed to the fore the memory she wanted "replayed". She had chosen this memory on purpose.

"The planet Plumera, 20 years ago. Is this acceptable?" The computer seemed uncaring whether it was or not, but Ashanti affirmed the memory. "State when you wish to begin. You have 30 Republic minutes to relive the chosen memory file."

The planet of Plumera shimmered before the sprite-like alien, green lush fields, small trees and shrubs, and a green sky tinged slightly with blue, just as Ashanti remembered it after all those years ago. "Remarkable," she murmured.

Not sure what to expect she turned and ran into herself. Well, a younger version of herself. A very cocky and arrogant Ashanti Vende was walking across the seemingly empty fields, muttering to herself.

"Can't find the blasted place. Gonna be late and Yoda will never let me hear the end of it!"

Ashanti smiled. Yes she remembered that. She had spent too much time gawking in the town market and had been late to meet with a delegate from Plumera who stated they had a possible Jedi candidate. She had then gotten lost (hard for a Jedi, easy for her in open spaces), not having the internal "radar" sense for open spaces. Her species were tree climbers. She had never seen many open fields before. Coruscant was a giant floating city-planet. Definitely no open areas there. And space, well, you didn't go for a stroll in space.

"Are you the Jedi?" A man approached the younger Ashanti, who looked at him warily. Ashanti herself tensed, knowing what was coming next.

"I am," the younger Ashanti said, her eyes darting from the man who was visible to the five that were not, hiding in the shrubs surrounding them.

"Just checking," nodded the man and he attacked.

Ashanti had been ready for the attack, she was gratified to remember, but had not been ready for the lightsaber her first confronter pulled. It had been rudely constructed and its beam was weak, but it still could cause damage, both Ashantis noted as the beam sliced at her tail and left a singe mark where she had not moved it in time.

"Not bad for someone who can't read the specs, but this is what a real lightsaber looks like!" The memory Ashanti powered up her own blade, a light yellow blade at the time, and began to dance with her other sabered partner. She would deflect one of his blows with a powerful block or thrust, turn to beat back her other attackers and continued the pattern.

Her opponents were admittedly pathetic, but Ashanti had been on a mission previously which had taken much from her. This mission was specifically chosen for her because of it's ease. Wounds of great severity were healing still and her energy flagged often from the use of the Force to heal.

Her younger self had soon taken down three of the five and was sandwiched between the two leftovers. A blaster was pulled by the one behind her and she was shot in the back, her block wasted when she moved a hair too slow. The older and wiser Ashanti groused to herself at the bad fighting technique but reflected that she knew better now and did not fight when so outmatched any more. If she had to, she ran to better ground.

Her memory self fell to her knees, her backside smoking from the hit and singed skin was ripe in the air. "You will forgive us if we tell the delegate that you won't be arriving after all. You fell prey to particularly clever bandits and I'll be taking that lightsaber from you."

"I don't think so." Ashanti's memory self growled the words at the same time a man's baritone growled it as well. From nowhere a huge giant of a human male launched himself at the blaster-wielding thug, punching him in the jaw with one powerful swing. The attacker was obviously not built to handle such a punch as Ron-Seng Jinn delivered, for he crumpled up and fell into a heap.

Ron-Seng had grabbed the blaster and had it trained unwaveringly at the remaining attacker. The man looked nervous but that was about it. Ashanti had chosen that time to swing her saber up, forcing the other lightsaber out of the man's lax grip.

"Don't get overconfident, my friend," she had hissed and thrust her own saber through his middle.

"You wanted it?" asked Ron-Seng to the man, whose expression widened in shock. "I think you got it, and more expertly crafted and handled."

"Never mess with a professional," Ashanti had added and the man fell back, dead. Ashanti had looked up to see the most handsome human she had ever seen. She gave a lop-sided smile and toppled over herself.

The memory went blank, because well, Ashanti didn't remember anything after that. She did remember waking in Ron-Seng's home, his beautiful wife Ravia dressing her back wound. On her stomach her memory self could not see the human woman as she worked, but the remembering Ashanti could and tears formed.

She had been jealous of Ravia, jealous of the loving man she had, the beautiful home and belongings and her sweet nature and even tempered attitude. Ashanti could always have been called chaotic and that would have been complimentary. To be calm, not overly energetic was a dream Ashanti dared not dream.

Ravia's brown eyes widened when she saw the injury and she clucked her tongue as she placed a bacta salve on it. "This will heal soon enough, especially if you concentrate with your Jedi powers."

"Thank you," her doppelganger muttered.

"My husband assures me that no offense is taken is your lateness." Amusement that Ashanti did not consciously remember tinged Ravia's husky voice. "It seems he was late as well. I've heard of meeting in the middle, but not in the literal sense."

"He was Ron-Seng Jinn, the Plumeran I was to meet?" Ashanti heard herself say, turning to look at the woman.

Ravia nodded. "Our home is your home. When you are rested my husband is willing to talk to you about the girl with the Jedi potential."

"Is there a reason why I was attacked?"

Ravia hesitated. "An investigation is in action. My husband is spearheading it. This is very unusual for our planet."

"Plumera is known for its peace and prosperity," agreed the memory Ashanti.

"It was also known for it's friendship and welcoming haven," murmured the watcher.

"We try," laughed Ravia, a low husky sound, calming and soothing. Her answer was in response to the memory Ashanti but it fit either observation.

The conversation continued, with the two women exchanging information about each other and becoming immediate friends. The thirty minutes were quickly up and Ashanti stood there frozen in silence a few minutes more. Tears cascaded down her face.

Ron-Seng had saved her that day. The attack had been specifically made by the girl's distant family, who had plans to rid themselves of the girl through slavery. Her special Jedi abilities could be honed elsewhere to a greater financial advantage. Ashanti had healed and the girl had traveled to the Temple. She had been apprenticed to a strong master and, if Ashanti remembered right, was a respected knight now herself.

Those few days in the Jinn household had been warm and comforting. The hole in her soul from the recent death of her love, Drad, in a hideous manner and from her belief that she had failed him had been eating her alive. The Jinns had given her a renewed sense of self worth and the friendship that she needed. She had visited often, taking 'vacation' between missions to visit and she had always been welcome. Communiqués from the Jinns kept her abreast of news should her visits be infrequent. Ron-Seng jokingly called her Ashanti Jinn, telling her she was the sister they never had.

For Ron-Seng and Ravia, Ashanti would have done anything. Anything.

Now in her care was a boy, Ravia and Ron-Seng's boy, who depended upon her train him in the ways of the Jedi. Ron-Seng would have been proud that his son was an apprentice and both would have been thrilled that Ashanti herself trained him. To them, Ashanti could do no wrong, and she planned to keep it that way.

* * *

Qui-Gon thought Ashanti would never come out. The thirty minutes had seemed like a lifetime. His master came out pale and shaken, lines where tears had streamed down her face were still visible. Qui-Gon became worried.

"Are you alright?" he demanded and Ashanti blinked at him.

"Do you know how much like your father you are, Qui-Gon Jinn?" she asked him pensively.

He looked at her stupidly, not knowing what to say. Finally he grinned. Ashanti's heart lurched. "No, but if you hum a few bars I can fake it!" he quipped lamely.

She didn't laugh, she didn't smile, she didn't groan. She continued to look at him. "It's not your thirteenth birthday yet, but I find I can't wait any longer." From a pouch on her belt she pulled two small holo projectors. One she activated and two tiny figures appeared on the small, circular platform. "These are your parents, Ron-Seng and Ravia Jinn. They were my best friends in the whole universe and I would have done anything for them, but they asked only one thing of me." She looked at Qui-Gon and sniffled. "To love and care for their son as if he were my own."

She handed him the holo pictures and he stared at them in wonder. He did look like his father, Qui-Gon noted, but he saw a bit of his mother every morning in the mirror as well. They were a handsome couple and they looked as if they had been happy.

"They loved you. To have you be a knight like me would have given them great joy. They were my family, my brother and sister it seemed. You are all of them I have left." Qui-Gon looked at Ashanti and saw the strong emotion in her chiseled features and teal eyes.

"I wish I had known them, even remember them." Qui-Gon murmured these words and turned off the holographic recorder.

"You have much of them in you. With a little work, I can talk a little chaos in you and you'll be the perfect mix of the three of us." Ashanti crooked a smile in his direction and winked.

"The Prophecies forbid," blasphemed Qui-Gon in perfect imitation of his master. Ashanti's tail looped with mild amusement.

"I know you're here, Pak, hovering around trying to figure out what the crazy aliens are babbling about." Pak's outline shimmered into view. "There you are! Let's go for a ride. I think we should visit the last place our missing knight and his dead apprentice visited before pulling a disappearing act."

Qui-Gon looked at her. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked worriedly.

"Perfectly. Let's go get into mischief."

Pak chose that moment to put in his two cents worth. "That will not be hard."

Ashanti and Qui-Gon choked on their laughter. "Pak," Ashanti said, throwing her arms out as if to embrace Pak's shimmering form, "you fit in just fine. And you may be more right than you know." She looked pensive a moment, her determination and spirit renewed by her memory encounter. "I may believe in the Force and all it's wonders, but disappearing acts? That's too magical for my taste."


	11. Part Ten

"This is it?" asked Qui-Gon, looking at the rickety "building" that Pak said the reports had the knight and apprentice disappearing from. It was also the location of the apprentice's body a week and a half later.

"Yes," Pak affirmed sadly. "Our people were most disturbed by the violence to the body. Such things have never happened here before. We do not have things like murder and suicide among our people. Off-worlder ways are strange to us."

"They're strange to everyone, Pak, so don't feel too badly. We Jedi are tougher than we look." Ashanti poked Qui-Gon the rib cage with the curve of her tail.

Qui-Gon looked mildly offended, which Pak had come to realize was an act of teasing affection between the two aliens. "Just what are you implying, Ashanti?" he asked in mock-outrage.

Ashanti gave him an innocent sideways glance and turned her attention back to the "building". "That you'll be staying in the transport for a quick getaway because you're too inexperienced to get out of any trouble I'll get us into over there. I've got a bad feeling about this place. Come on, Pak."

Pak wasn't sure it wanted to accompany the Jedi knight into the facility but knew it had no choice. Its friends were depending on it to help them get to the bottom of the mysterious deaths.

Ashanti affixed the breathing mask to her face, activated the force shield generator around the transport to secure the inside environment and got out. The atmosphere immediately created a solid ground for her to tread upon and Ashanti quickly made her way to the "sidewalk" the led up to the building's door. Pak followed close behind her, its shimmering outline fading away as they grew further from the transport.

Qui-Gon shut the transport exit, made sure it was secured and settled back to wait for his master and their planetary guide to return. He wasn't happy about being left behind. How was he supposed to learn anything left behind where it was safe?

Closing his eyes and drawing the Force around him, Qui-Gon searched for a sense of Ashanti, and once found, he took comfort in the fact that she sent a rush of the Force back to him. She understood his frustration, he realized, but a knight and apprentice had already lost their way here and she was taking no chances with the two of them if she could help it. Somewhere within the link that grew stronger everyday Qui-Gon felt a plan forming in Ashanti's mind.

_Make yourself a target, Qui-Gon._ she told him through their link. _Unsecure the door. You'll have visitors in few moments, I'll stake my sketchy reputation on it._

He did as she asked.

An hour later, after searching the building thoroughly, Ashanti and Pak returned to an empty transport. Ashanti smiled to herself and grinned smugly at Pak.

"Told you," she informed the alien. "They fell for it. Now let's hope I didn't get too confident too soon."

* * *

Qui-Gon sat calmly, staring at his captors. A Hutt stared back, his fat lips twitching, saliva dripping down his chin. Qui-Gon had never seen Hutt up so close before, and was wishing he could skip this part altogether.

Marteene the Hutt, infamous in Qui-Gon's mind now because of Ashanti, was a disgusting creature. He smelled, his body was caked with who-knew-what and the Hutts companions were almost as bad. Two other Hutts, smaller in size and therefore age, flanked him. Several other hideous looking aliens were scattered around the room. The lingering sense of Thoughtians, one of them Qui-Gon was sure was the official 8937, also permeated the environment.

Ashanti had been right about a few things. Too bad her hope that Marteene the Hutt being involved was a false one.

"So you are the fortune?" laughed one of the smaller Hutts jovially. He looked at Marteene. "You're a fool. This boy is worthless!"

Marteene gave his companion a derisive look. "This is why I'm still alive and you are not. You judge by what you see, not by what you can find out."

"I'm not dead!" protested the Hutt.

"My apologies." Marteene nodded at a pig-like alien, who turned his blaster on the smaller, insolent Hutt. A long moment of silence followed the buzzing sound of the blaster's laser discharge. "You are now."

Qui-Gon choked down bile at the smell of fried Hutt. Just when he thought Hutts couldn't smell worse, he found out they could: dead.

"Tell me, Qui-Gon Jinn, will your master come for you, do you think?" Marteene reached for some wiggling delicacy in a deep bowl next to him. The lush surroundings, slightly grungy from lack of cleaning, suited the Hutt perfectly. "Did she tell you why you are so important, little human?"

"That you wanted my parents wealth, and that you would have used me for your evil plans," Qui-Gon answered calmly.

The giant Hutt laughed uproariously. "How dramatic of you! You personally are worthless. Once I had that huge wealth of money in your name transferred to me, you would have made an excellent slave. Still might, if you behave." The Hutt seemed amused that Qui-Gon would consider himself worth anything.

Hoping the Hutt was mentally lax, Qui-Gon concentrated on his mind. "Release me."

The Hutt gave his other Hutt companion an amused look. "Don't bother. I'm wise to your Jedi mind tricks. How pathetic. Ashanti needs to train you better. Bova, take him to your quarters and keep a close eye on him."

Qui-Gon's eyes widened as the female Hutt came out of the shadows, flanked by her two pleasure slaves. He had only known there was another Hutt in the room. He had not seen who the Hutt was.

"Of course, Marteene," she purred, or at least what passed as a purr to a Hutt. "I'll see that he's taken care of."

"Add him to your collection if you like." Marteene waved away Bova as if she were insignificant.

Qui-Gon watched as Bova's eyes flashed in anger momentarily and then she resumed her former subservient attitude. "He will make a nice addition to the other one."

Other one? Qui-Gon's hopes rose. Did she mean the missing Jedi master?

"Leave me. I await Ashanti. Surely she has put it all together now. My revenge upon her is at hand." Marteene dismissed Bova completely, verbally and from his attentions.

Bova nodded to one of her lackeys, who picked up Qui-Gon as if he were a sack of feed, tossing the Jedi student over his shoulder effortlessly. They exited the room and followed a corridor to an elevator.

"Set him down," ordered Bova to her servant. They entered the elevator and the other lackey pressed the button with the floor they needed. "Disable it."

The two servants nodded and began to tear apart the controls, searching for something. They found it quickly, and to Qui-Gon's amazement, pulled the security system, audio bug, and camera from the elevator. "I will not be spied upon," Bova told the amazed Jedi apprentice. "You have a mission to accomplish. I can help you accomplish it, for a price."

Qui-Gon gaped at her flabbergasted. "I have nothing with which to pay you. I have no access to my fortune and I doubt Ashanti will pay you with any of it anyway."

Bova smiled gently. "You misunderstand me. I do not want your money, little one. I want your help. I help you; you help me. Are we agreed?"

Qui-Gon stretched out with the Force, trying to discover what he should do. The Force felt calm, still. "All right," he nodded. "What do you need done?"

"I've made a deal with the devil, Qui-Gon Jinn, and want out of the bargain." Bova's massive slug-like tail twitched like Ashanti's. "The merchants on board the transport here?" Qui-Gon nodded. "I owe them a debt. They sold the debt to Marteene. I'm to care for you and the other knight until Ashanti Vende comes to him. Then I can dispose of the two of you at my convenience but if I do not, my life is forfeit."

Qui-Gon interrupted. "I don't understand."

Bova smiled, a eerie expression of friendliness for a Hutt. "I was not raised by Hutts, young Jedi, but by others. I operate within the Hutt infrastructure, but against the greedy, not for them. Call me an undercover operator, if you like. I keep local authorities abreast of goings-on they need to know about."

"You're a spy!" breathed Qui-Gon in shock.

Bova shrugged. "If you like the term. I'm on your side, but short of getting myself killed, which does you no good, I don't know how to get out of this mess. The merchants threatened to reveal my secret to Marteene if I don't do what he says. That is the debt they tell him they have over me. He doesn't know what the debt is that he purchased. It's just the means to an end."

Qui-Gon looked pointedly at her servants. "And they are..."

"They are my servants, loyal to me only." Bova gave an affectionate look at her two flunkies, who gave equal regard in return. Qui-Gon inwardly shuddered. It was more than his teenage male presence could stand. His idea of beauty was nothing close to Bova. To each their own, he recited to himself.

"We should get him to our quarters lest Marteene become suspicious, Mistress," the flunky who had carried Qui-Gon told her respectfully. "Forgive me," he told Qui-Gon and flung the youth over his shoulder again. The other flunky restored the security system to normal again and they exited the transport.

Down another long corridor the group traveled until they reached a door that bore a seal that no doubt indicated that the room was Bova's. They entered it and Qui-Gon was once again set on his own two feet. A human male entered the room at a skidding run but halted at the sight of Qui-Gon. "Is it true, Bova?" the human demanded distraughtly.

Bova approached him. "I'm afraid so. Marteene now has this one, too. He uses this boy to get to the master."

The Jedi knight turned piercing blue eyes to Qui-Gon and Qui-Gon stood up straighter. "Your name, Padawan?" The knight bowed respectfully, one Jedi to another.

"Qui-Gon Jinn, padawan learner to Ashanti Vende," Qui-Gon answered proudly. "She has a plan," he added hoping to give comfort.

The knight looked at him in horror. "Ashanti Vende, the Titainien?" He groaned.

Qui-Gon became offended. "Ashanti is a great knight!" he defended.

The knight smiled at Qui-Gon. "Yes but she's a little too chaotic for my tastes."

"Chaotic is what we may need. Such unpredictability will keep Marteene worrying about her and not us." Bova made this observation with remarkable logic. Both humans looked at her in surprise.

"I am Hal Lim and I need to know Ashanti's plan so we can act accordingly." Hal held out a hand to shake and Qui-Gon took it.

Qui-Gon smiled apologetically. "I don't know what the plan is exactly, but I know she has one. She set it up where I would get kidnapped."

Bova looked at Hal. Hal looked at Bova. Both sighed. "Titainien," Hal murmured, rubbing his temples in exasperation.


	12. Part Eleven

Ashanti and Pak had kept track of Qui-Gon's location through the Force, not that Ashanti needed the extra assurance. She had already figured out that Marteene was behind all this. The why was what puzzled her.

He would not have gone through all the trouble to get her here so there had to be another reason behind the disappearance and death. Pak had no idea and could not offer any clues. His support was enough for Ashanti for now.

They returned to the Jedis quarters at the hotel and Ashanti rethought out her strategy. Qui-Gon was on the inside and with the right maneuvering could be of great help to her. She hated the idea of him there, but knew Marteene would do nothing to the boy, considering the wealth behind him. The wealth alone bought Qui-Gon's life for now. He was smart and able; he could handle himself with the help of the Force.

Ashanti wanted to know what the missing knight had found that had caused so much trouble. She knew the atmosphere had something to do with it, probably from a harmful point of view.

There was a missing element in this, though, and Ashanti couldn't quite put her finger on it. "Pak," she asked quietly as the being hovered around in boredom, "I need to get into the official records of the spas. How do I do that?"

"Records?" echoed Pak, not understanding.

"Yes, documentation on the guests, any incidents, accidents or unusual occurrences that have happened," explained Ashanti with an amazing degree of patience.

"Oh!" Pak understood. "That would be at Marteene's home. He keeps our administrative accounts for us."

Ashanti grimaced. "Bad choice, there, my friend. I wouldn't trust a Hutt as far as I could throw one."

Pak spoke dubiously. "That would not be far, given your stature, would it?" Ashanti chuckled. "No offense is meant, friend Ashanti."

"None taken, friend Pak, because you're right." A scene flashed into her mind, strong, directly guided by the Force, almost as if a dream. A street scene on one of the Outer Rim planets many years ago that Ashanti had visited. Destitute people walked in stupors, stealing, killing and committing other crimes for a taste of a deadly drug that had come beyond the normal trade routes. It had made mindless souls of many.

"Are there spas of less reputable regard, Pak, than the one I visited?" asked Ashanti.

Pak hesitated. "I have heard stories," it began.

"Perfect. Take me to one."

Pak was taken aback. "Are you crazy?" it asked, echoing a statement it had heard Qui-Gon say to her earlier.

Ashanti gave a roguish grin. "Not yet, but if things go right, I may be."

* * *

Pak was ill. All around him was the evidence of what its home did to the outsiders who visited them. The spa was filled to crushing standards with the mindless people who had no will anymore. A will taken away by the very atmosphere that gave Pak life.

Pak didn't think it wanted to be greeter any more. In fact, it was fairly certain it wanted nothing to do with this whole thing any more at all.

"My home has taken these peoples minds," Pak said brokenly to Ashanti.

The sprite-like Jedi surveyed the depressing scene before her with a callused eye. It was a scene she had viewed many times before on many different planets. The patheticness of the whole situation was more than she could stand, though. These people were taken in by a ruse, and when the ruse did the damage, they were hidden away from the public so that no one would ever know.

"Such is the price of science, Pak. Always check every variable. A good lesson to us all." Pak nodded sadly.

"What now, friend Ashanti?" asked Pak.

Ashanti removed the mask. "Time to join the dregs." She took a deep breath and moved into the crowd, dropping the mask inside her cloak's side inside pocket. The fumes of the lower atmosphere were more potent than the upper atmosphere and Ashanti fought the effects gallantly.

With the Force as her guide she stretched out her full sense of awareness, feeling for the other Force user she knew was here. She left Pak behind and delved deeper into the forest of mindless folk. As she grew more and more numb, both physically and mentally, her tail lost it's hold on her waist and she tripped as it slid down her legs. Her hands went through the 'floor' and she tumbled downward.

Pak didn't make it in time to stop her fall and she disappeared into the world beneath its make-shift feet.

* * *

Ashanti 'landed' on a soft cushion, forged by her mind, controlled by the Force. She struggled to maintain her grasp with the Force, knowing it was the only thing that would save her when she needed saving. It was the lifeline it had never been before. Before it had been the stability in her chaotic personality and life; now it served to maintain her sanity and her sense of being. The Force now preserved the very essence of Ashanti Vende.

Ashanti resolved to never blaspheme the Force ever again.

The Force brought to her mind the fact that she needed to rise. Ashanti gave herself over to the Force, allowing it to guide her as needed. She trusted in it completely, knowing it was the only sense she could now trust in this world of gases designed to make her senses inoperable.

Nothing made the Force inoperable.

The Force was all.

She walked. She trudged. She dodged other mindless beings led by whatever their minds willed. Eventually she tripped over something and landed on it. She looked down and brought the Force to bear on her vision, to clear it and understand what it was she was looking at.

"Master Lim." Her voice sounded disjointed, but that was okay. She doubted he understood her anyway.

His black eyes were blank and his gray skin was almost translucent. The Force pulsed within him and mingled with the Force within her. Together they rose.

"You found me," he whispered in thankfulness.

"No," she answered, her voice disjointed from the effects of the atmosphere, "the Force guided me to you."

She pulled him up and together they followed the powerful drive within them back to Pak.

Pak watch in amazement as Ashanti came out of the atmospheric mists, helping an alien male of humanoid stature. It hovered worriedly, not able to help Ashanti physically. The two off-worlders collapsed next to Pak and Ashanti groped inside her cloak for her breathing mask. Once it was secured upon her face and she began to breath clean air, her mind began to clear.

A thunderous headache pounded in her brain and she winced at the pain it caused. "Let's go, Pak. We have to get Master Lim out of here." She pulled Hal Lim to his feet again and they left through the exit. The transport hovered where they left it and Ashanti dumped Lim inside the clean atmosphere of the transport vehicle.

He immediately began to cough, his expelled breath the color of the environment outside as his lungs and body dispelled the noxious gases from his system. He groaned and fell into unconsciousness.

Ashanti collapsed herself inside the vehicle but maintained her grip on consciousness. She pulled off the mask, still gasping for air. "Is all well, friend Ashanti?" asked Pak, tone edged with nervous worry.

"We need to get him help."

"No," wheezed Hal Lim, stirring into wakefulness. "My padawan. . ."

Ashanti leaned back and twisted, looking at Hal Lim. She didn't not know this Jedi but knew that he deserved the truth. "Your padawan learner is dead, Master Lim. I am sorry. His body was returned to the Temple. My padawan and I were sent here to find out what happened to you."

"Where is your. . .?" Master Lim could not finish the sentence.

"Save your strength and draw in the Force. Here," she handed him food rations from her emergency stash, "eat. I'm going to need your help getting him."

"We go to Marteene the Hutt's home, friend Ashanti?" asked Pak resolutely.

Ashanti nodded weakly. "Yes, Pak, we're going to pay Marteene the Hutt a visit. I want my padawan back."


	13. Part Twelve

Qui-Gon had a bad feeling about the whole situation. He was sneaking along the corridor with Master Hal Lim and the Force was trying to tell him something, but he didn't quite understand.

He felt guilty, actually. Here was the missing knight he and Ashanti searched for, yet Qui-Gon didn't trust him. Something wasn't right about him. Trained to obey his elders within the Order, Qui-Gon felt a sense of guilt at his feelings toward the master. Hal Lim didn't seem to notice the misgivings, or if he did, he said nothing about them.

An overwhelming sense of danger warned Qui-Gon and he hit the floor moments before the blaster bolt passed harmlessly where he had been. Hal Lim dodged another and the two human males darted to doorway alcoves on opposite sides of the corridor. Qui-Gon's lightsaber hummed with an intense blue brightness, glowing brighter as the midichlorians hummed within him, telling him the Force's warnings and will.

Qui-Gon noticed that Hal Lim brought out a blaster himself. Qui-Gon's uneasiness about the master grew. The absence of his lightsaber was simple to explain away, but Qui-Gon could not do it comfortably. A Jedi's weapon of choice was his or her lightsaber. They would have it retrieved at all costs. The use of a blaster or other weapon was permissible but only if the lightsaber was unavailable.

Ashanti had Qui-Gon trained for blasters and other weapons for reasons she gave as being prepared for anything. Qui-Gon hadn't been comfortable with the other weapons, but he understood the reasoning behind his extra training.

Hal Lim handled his blaster with too uncommon familiarity for a member of the Jedi Order. That made Qui-Gon very uneasy.

He shifted his attention from his comrade in arms to the enemy beyond. Several of the pig-looking guards sprinted down the corridor and Qui-Gon leapt from his cover brandishing his lightsaber. The first guard was caught directly in the rib cage with Qui-Gon's wide swing. The second guard lost his arm and fell back screaming. Hal Lim picked off two with as many shots, an impressive feat in such close quarters and quickly moving targets. Qui-Gon flipped over the remaining guard, slashing downward as he did so. The guard fell into two halves in a rather gory display of Qui-Gon's weapon's ability.

Hal Lim swallowed, watching the boy who accompanied him. That the apprentice was highly skilled was more than obvious. With any luck, the boy was fooled that he really was the knight Hal Lim and would stay that way. Though 'Hal Lim' was confident in his ability with a blaster, he had heard stories of lightsabers deflecting blaster bolts with uncanny skill from a Jedi.

Forcing a look of pride on his face, he moved from his cover. "Well done, apprentice. Very well done indeed. Your training at the Temple was excellent."

Qui-Gon looked at him peculiarly. What an odd thing to say. Of course his training was excellent. It was the same training that had been given to Jedi students for centuries.

Unless this wasn't really Hal Lim, a knight of the Jedi Order.

Convinced now of his comrade's false identity, Qui-Gon decided to play along until Ashanti arrived. This fake Hal Lim might know where the real Hal Lim was.

The two continued to creep down the corridor, keeping sharp eyes out for traps and alarm systems that would give away their exact location. "Are you sure that the documents we need to prove Marteene's operation here is dangerous is here?" asked Qui-Gon, using his Force push ability to trigger a spring trap before Hal Lim stepped into it. The shard of stone from the wall bounced off the hidden spring and two arrow bolts imbedded into the wall next to Hal Lim.

Lim jumped in surprise and turned a quick smile in Qui-Gon's direction. "Yes, Bova's servants confirmed it the other day while they explored for her. No one pays attention to servants."

Qui-Gon nodded. In this the impostor seemed certain. He and Bova obviously wanted the documentation for themselves, so at least there was a common goal for the time being that Qui-Gon could work within.

Where was Master Ashanti?

* * *

Marteene the Hutt was wondering that himself. That Bova had turned traitor was obvious, but with her barricaded in her room with her own safety precautions and her well-trained fighting servants, she was impossible to get to. The Jinn boy had vanished with the other Jedi knight, creeping along the halls, looking for something and decimating his guards as they traveled.

It was enough to make a paranoid Hutt mad.

Marteene shifted his considerable bulk as yet another alarm went off. "What now?" he snapped in Hutteese to a long-eared, demented rabbit-looking servant who already looked harassed beyond his ability to handle things.

"I do not know, Master," the servant sniveled, ready to pull out what passed as hair on his head. "We have intruders inside the facility..."

"I know about the Jinn boy and that Jedi knight, what's-his-name Lim. What's the other alarm for?" interrupted Marteene in a near roar of irritation.

"Me."

Marteene looked up, his face going pale at the sight of Ashanti. "Kill her! Five hundred thousand Republic credits to the guard who blows her away!"

Ashanti flipped down and looked around in mild amusement at the lack of guards in the room. "I think there needs to be someone here before you can make such a generous offer, Marteene."

Her head was still fuzzy from the atmosphere she had breathed in earlier and somewhere outside Pak and Hal Lim were making enough trouble to cause the alarms to go insane. From the conversation she had just overheard Qui-Gon had met up with them and was joining the fun.

"You're in this with Bova, aren't you, Ashanti? The boy is your apprentice and Bova will get his fortune." Marteene slithered in her direction at a quick clip for a fat, slug-like alien.

Ashanti nimbly leaped over the Hutt and attached herself in her peculiar manner to the wall behind him. She tsk-tsked at him as he attempted to move around quickly to face her. "I don't know what you are talking about and frankly, I don't care either. Qui-Gon's money means nothing to me and you know it. What does Bova the Hutt have to do with anything?"

"She's in league with that other Jedi knight, and well you know it!" he roared, lunging at her again, a mad gleam in his eye.

Ashanti again dodged. "Hal Lim?" she asked, confused.

"Yes, I had him brought here and she took him as one of her little playtoys. Then she locked herself up and they are playing havoc." Marteene growled low and switched to Hutteese. "You will all pay for your disrespect of my power."

"Whatever," sniffed Ashanti. "Excuse me, Marteene, but I'll dance with you later. I have a padawan learner to get out of trouble." She leaped past him again and darted out the door.

Marteene roared his displeasure and followed in the typical Hutt slither. He had enough of Ashanti Vende. She would die, or he would die trying to kill her. The universe was no longer big enough for the two of them. One had to go.

* * *

Ashanti ran pell-mell toward the sense of Qui-Gon she had. No other Force user could be felt within the building so the impostor who was with Qui-Gon was not a Jedi of any sort.  
She careened around a corner and flipped over a human male brandishing a blaster. She turned in mid-air and landed next to her padawan. "In case you haven't figured it out, this isn't Hal Lim," she told her padawan breathlessly.

"Yeah, when I couldn't sense him and then he seemed impressed with my base level skill with a lightsaber, it gave me the idea." Qui-Gon stood by his master, towering over her a good foot and a half.

"Titainien," spat the impostor Hal Lim, turning his blaster on Ashanti, a malevolent gleam in his eye. "How one of your race became a Jedi I'll never understand. Nothing but trouble!" He fired and Ashanti blocked the bolt easily, making sure it deflected back to the impostor, but hitting the shoulder that was attached to the arm that held the blaster.

"Thanks!" she quipped, her tail lashing out, the spikes elongating slightly, a wet gleam to them. Qui-Gon watched in horror as the spikes scraped the impostor on his torso and he crumpled to the floor in shock. "The poison isn't that strong. Mild injection. I'd suggest you get out of Marteene's way before he..." Ashanti's words were cut off by Marteene's maddened roar.

"Uh, Master Ashanti?" questioned Qui-Gon nervously.

"You read my mind, padawan. Let's be gone!" The two Force sped back the way Qui-Gon and the impostor Hal Lim had come. As they ran they passed the carnage of Qui-Gon's lightsaber.

Ashanti halted to look. "That's gruesome, Qui-Gon," she stated pointing at the halved man.

Qui-Gon looked sheepish. "I got a little off-balance and as I compensated I missed his arm."

"I should say so!" exclaimed Ashanti. "Nice slice though. Good form."

"Qui-Gon Jinn! Ashanti Vende!" came Marteene's scream of rage.

"That's your cue to leave, Padawan. Follow that corridor and keep left. You will eventually come to the room you need to get the documentation we need. I suggest keywords in the computer database until you find what we need. I'll hold off Mr. Fat and Fussy."

Qui-Gon nodded and bolted from his master at a good clip, his lightsaber at the ready should he meet more guards on the way to his destination.

Ashanti faced the Hutt as he came barreling around the corner. "Over here, you fat lazy worm!" Ashanti turned and ran at regular speed, dodging blaster bolts as she ran. Her lightsaber glowed deep purple, it's heat from the crystals within a comfort in her clawed hands. She allowed the Force to guide her to her destination, where ever that was, and hoped that Qui-Gon would manage okay.

Several corners and long corridors now filled with blaster bolt scars later, Ashanti faced Marteene the Hutt on a balcony. Her face was covered with her breathing mask, his was without. In his maddened rage, Marteene neglected to put one on. Ashanti could see that the atmosphere was already doing it's damage. It seemed that it didn't matter if you were supposedly in a protected environment, you were still affected.

Or maybe he's just insane, Ashanti thought to herself.

She dodged blaster bolts, slashing and blocking with her saber as she did so. Soon the Hutt was a mass of sliced parts, but still alive and vengeful. His tail swept out unexpectedly, and though the Force warned Ashanti, her sluggishness from the atmosphere slowed her reaction enough to knock her off her feet.

The Hutt pounced. With tail and strong legs, Ashanti boosted him over the edge, but he grabbed her tail as he went. She jerked her tail from his grasp, which gave him the leverage he needed to get a hold on the ledge of the balcony's elaborate decor.

Ashanti twisted herself back onto the safety of the balcony and looked down at the Hutt hanging precariously. "Do you want help?" she asked, knowing what the answer would be.

"Go to hell," spat the Hutt and he let go, plummeting.

Ashanti watched in rapt and morbid fascination as the Hutt fell. Nothing seemed to break his fall and she wondered if his mind was conjuring anything to do so.

Or did he want to die?

Something with her said that the cycle between she and he was broken.

She was thankful. Now Ashanti Vende could train Qui-Gon Jinn without the shadow of death from some crazed bounty hunter every time they turned around.

It was over. A new beginning with her padawan was looming on the horizon.

Ashanti Vende turned on her heel and went sprinting back the way she had come, looking for Qui-Gon Jinn.


	14. Part Thirteen

Qui-Gon slipped into the records room safely, having encountered no one as he skulked down the corridors per his master's instructions. He sat down in the chair in front of a computer bank and began to run a search using keywords like Ptoph, long-term effects, symptoms and others.

His search on Ptoph came up with a huge mountain of information, which he stored on a data encoder disk. Further searching for symptoms found a full medical investigation by Ptoph and certain Thoughtian "officials", sponsored by Marteene the Hutt, stating that long-term usage and living conditions within the planets atmosphere eventually brought about mental instability.

"Well, duh," Qui-Gon muttered.

More information as he dug around came to light. There was another power behind the operation, it seemed, and Qui-Gon had a sneaking suspicion he knew who it was.

"Bova," he said outloud as the realization struck, "and the merchants Ashanti sensed she worked for. The Trade Federation itself is spearheading this for a portion of the profits."

"A large portion, actually, young Jedi," a voice said behind him.

Qui-Gon jumped up, pulling his lightsaber as he moved in one swift motion. The Force had told him long ago of her presence but he chose to ignore it for now, until her machinations became apparent. Now they were and good faced off evil. Qui-Gon felt a surge of power from the Force and the call that Ashanti was on her way. This was what he dreamed of, becoming a Jedi knight to defeat the forces of evil and darkness. Bova was a minion of that darkness, he of the light.

Bova pulled a blaster and fired at him.

He parried the blast easily enough, deflecting it back at her, hoping to end the confrontation quickly. She dodged the returning bolt with a graceful ease that Qui-Gon would never have imagined from a Hutt of any gender.

"Nice try, young Jedi, but nothing is going to stop me from making you into a pin cushion. Our plans must continue here and you are just in the way." She leveled her blaster again, aiming directly for his shoulder, no doubt thinking to put the saber arm out of commission.

She fired. He blocked.

The pattern continued over and over, with the two dodging each other's actions in continuous motion. Qui-Gon could sense nothing from Bova except determination and confidence. It was as if she knew something he didn't.

"Where are your loyal guards, Bova?" he asked, sending the chair skittering toward her in the vain hope it could "trip" her up as she slithered from side to side.

"They died in service to me, little one. You'll be joining them soon." Bova fired again, this time behind Qui-Gon, sending circuits and wiring from a computer console into an explosion. Several shards of the console lodged themselves in Qui-Gon's back and shoulders, but he shrugged off the pain as he'd been taught.

_Accept the pain, do not fight it. It is a part of you now, Qui-Gon. Accept it and continue. It is the only way to survive it._ Qui-Gon heard the words of Master Yoda coaching him. He pushed the pain from his mind, allowing the Force to flow through him, strengthening him.

His saber's blue blade grew dark and strong, and the boy apprentice leaped high in the air, tired and ready to end this pointless battle once and for all.

* * *

Ashanti came careening around the corner and slammed into the records room door. Locked!

She pulled her lightsaber and sliced the thin metal door open in two strokes. It wasn't locked, however, it was blocked by the corpse of Bova the Hutt. Ashanti powered down her lightsaber and scrambled over the smelly, dead Hutt. "Qui-Gon?" she called frantically, sending out feelers within the Force. She sensed he was unconscious, but she didn't know exactly where he was at.

*Qui-Gon, you must wake up now. We have to leave!* Through their bond Qui-Gon stirred at his master's voice and Ashanti felt it. *Come on, padawan! GET UP!*

Qui-Gon sat up suddenly, scaring Ashanti to death. Blood was splattered all over his body and he had a huge blaster gash on the side of his head. Another wound oozed blood from his shoulder.

"I held onto my saber, Master," the boy said weakly, giving a triumphant grin. "She shot me in the shoulder, but I used the Force to hold on and guide my hand to defeat her."

Ashanti breathed a sigh of relief. She hugged the injured boy to her and said, "Not bad, Padawan, not bad at all. She was a determined Hutt, I can tell, and you did right in defeating her." His dark blue eyes lit up at the praise from his worshipped master and he fainted back into unconsciousness. "Now here's hoping you got the information we need," she muttered to herself.

She groaned when she viewed the room. Blaster bolts had pretty much destroyed everything, including the main computer. She poked around, hoping for a miracle but found nothing. With a heavy sigh, Ashanti returned to Qui-Gon's side and gingerly picked him up.

She pulled from her side pouch a communicator and punched the button. "Hey, Pak? Hal Lim? You guys ready to get this over with? I think we can still prove our case. The main computers are destroyed, but everyone keeps a backup."

"We're ready, Ashanti," affirmed Hal Lim, sounding exhausted, mentally, emotionally and physically. "We'll find a way to nail them, I promise you that."

"I'll be there shortly. My padawan is injured. Prepare the emergency medpac, would you?"

"Right away," came Hal Lim's worried response.

Ashanti shifted the prone form of her padawan to a more comfortable carrying position and heard a soft thud by her feet. She looked down and then put Qui-Gon back on the floor.

An information disk.

He did it.

Ashanti smiled. "Come on, Padawan, I think we can say the mission is a success." She picked him back up, hopped nimbly over the dead female Hutt and made her way back outside to the waiting transport with Pak and Hal Lim.

* * *

"Well done, Ashanti, Qui-Gon," approved Master Yoda, his sleepy eyes a little wider than normal. Ashanti knew that look too. It only meant more trouble for her, and now her padawan learner.

"But?" she prompted.

Yoda blinked at her once in pure innocence. "No but, Ashanti. And."

Ashanti sighed. "And?"

"You earn vacation. To Plumera you will go. Heal Qui-Gon and yourself, please, so you can get back to more serious things." Yoda's images blipped off and Ashanti growled to herself.

"Little green-skinned, swamp-hugging know-it-all," she muttered as she exited the communications room to join Hal Lim, Qui-Gon Jinn and Pak.

"You had to have been speaking with Yoda," grinned Hal Lim, his black eyes dancing with banked amusement.

"Who else?" she sputtered. "Padawan, we're taking a vacation."

"Not another one," groaned Qui-Gon.

"No, this is actually a vacation," smiled Ashanti, amused at his antics.

"And myself?" asked Hal.

"Yoda thinks you should stay here, but contact him first to make sure I understood everything. It seems you have a natural immunity now to the atmosphere after such prolonged exposure." Ashanti grinned ferally at him. "Some species have all the breaks."

"Wouldn't be mine," he rejoined with an answering feral grin. "Pak, show me to my own quarters and you, my friend, can join me on finishing my mission here."

Pak's outline shimmered in a bow and then gave a kaleidoscope of colors to show its pleasure. "I would be honored, friend Hal."

"No, friend Pak, the pleasure was ours," corrected Hal with a yawn.

"Well, we leave tomorrow morning, Pak, so this is farewell." Ashanti bowed to the shimmering alien and Qui-Gon bowed his head, unable to yet move his torso. Actually he could move his torso, if Ashanti wasn't around to have a conniption fit about it. She was convinced he needed much convalescing, though he was healing faster than a normal human, thanks to the Force.

"I will see you again, friend Ashanti, friend Qui-Gon?" asked Pak, shimmering a dark blue in worry.

Ashanti's eyes glinted mischief. "I'm like a bad Republic credit, Pak, you never know where I'll turn up."

"And I'll be right behind her," added Qui-Gon, reaching for drink, only to have Ashanti's tail smack his hand and then hand him the glass so he wouldn't have to move. He shook his head in exasperation.

"No, you'll be right beside me. No one follows me unless they have a deathwish," Ashanti corrected. She and Hal bowed formally to each other and then clasped hands in farewell. "Until we meet again, Hal Lim."

"Until we meet again, Ashanti Vende." Hal and Pak left the room.

Qui-Gon looked at Ashanti. "Ashanti, why are we going to Plumera?"

"Unfinished business."


	15. Epilogue

"This is the spot where your father saved my hide." Qui-Gon looked around the field with the dirt path winding through it. He looked back at Ashanti's saddened face. He had come to see Ashanti as a carefree spirit. Such depression upon her made him nervous.

"He seemed like a good man," Qui-Gon said in an offering of comfort.

"So is his son." Qui-Gon looked at Ashanti. "Go walking, Padawan. I want to check on the house and see what shape it's in." Qui-Gon nodded and walked away across the field. Ashanti turned heavy feet and tail to the house she had left almost thirteen years ago.

The house, though a little dilapidated, still looked the same. The windows were boarded up to indicate it's emptiness and the paint peeled from it's once shimmering brightness, yet to Ashanti's eye, it looked unchanged for the most part.

The door opened and she saw the rooms were empty of furniture, wall hangings and other things that had made this building a welcoming restbit from the chaos of the galaxy for her. Room after room, Ashanti entered and wandered around, remembering where furniture sat, jokes and stories told by herself, Ron-Seng and Ravia. Memories hidden away flooded into her mind and she found herself chuckling at something or another as she wandered.

Her smile faded when she entered the room that had been Qui-Gon's nursery. The room was bare, like the others, but she still saw the bassinet, the cheery curtains hanging by the window and the smell of a clean human baby in the air. Soft murmurings of baby language flooded her ears from her memories and her eyes grew moist.

She turned away and faced down the hall to Ron-Seng and Ravia's bedroom, the last place they drew breath.

She pushed open the door, expecting the feeling of death, hopelessness and pain. She only felt happiness and love there. Her two friends may have suffered in this room, but their love and zest for life was what still resided here.

Ashanti smiled again.

It was fitting, she supposed, that even in death the Jinns brought her peace, comfort, joy and relief from the strains of the worlds beyond. They were at peace.

So she would be with their memory.

Ashanti shut the door to the bedroom, turned down the hall and left the house, carefully shutting the front door behind her. Her eyes scanned the horizon for the only Jinn left alive in her life. The Force sent her to the east and that was where she walked.

She found him by a stream, looking pensive yet at peace with himself. "What do you think?" she asked him.

"I think it's time we went on another mission," Qui-Gon answered quietly. "I understand a few things now and think I can live without the rest for the time being."

Ashanti nodded, noticing he clutched something in his hand. "What's that?"

Qui-Gon opened his fist to reveal a shiny, smooth rock. "A rock that seemed to call to me. I found in it the stream. A piece of the home to carry with me on my journeys."

Ashanti smiled. "Come on, Padawan, let's see what kind of trouble we can get into."

He smiled, so much like his father, his blue eyes glinting mischief similar to the glint in her own eyes. Her tail wrapped around his wrist and tugged. He tugged back and they walked away from the stream heading back to the road.

Ashanti found she was no longer angry at the loss of her friends. She had Qui-Gon and she would train him as promised and to his fullest potential.

Qui-Gon found he was not angry for the family lost to him, or angry at Ashanti for her withdrawal of information during the mission. She had done it to protect him, and she had been right. He hadn't dealt with much of it for this mission. She had the battle with Marteene and his maddened vengeance against the two of them. His soul felt calm as the blue-green sky above them. Ashanti would train him as promised and help him to become the best Jedi he could be.


End file.
